


Risk It All

by psychotic_fangirl369



Series: Midnight talks [8]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Boys In Love, Canon Gay Relationship, Enemies to Lovers, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch Is Gay for Simon Snow, Vampire Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Watford (Simon Snow), Watford Fifth Year, footballer baz, humdrum - Freeform, simon stalks baz, violin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:40:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23964019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psychotic_fangirl369/pseuds/psychotic_fangirl369
Summary: "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were in love with him."It's their fifth year at Watford and Simon is determined to prove that Baz is a vampire. As for Baz, he's coming to terms with the fact that he's in love with Simon Snow and the beautiful idiot won't stop following him everywhere.Cue stalking, fluff, late night conversations stuck on the wrong side of the draw bridge, the Humdrum being the Humdrum and Simon and Baz realising they are in love earlier than their 8th year.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: Midnight talks [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/787968
Comments: 36
Kudos: 124





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! So this is different from my other SnowBaz fics because this is going to be a multi chapter story. I've already written the full thing and am just in the editing stages so there will be regular updates at least once or twice weekly. I hope you all enjoy this take on our boys fifth year at Watford.

**Chapter One**

**Simon**

Coming back to Watford always makes me feel _something._ All summer I am stuck in a crap care home with a bunch of misfits (Me being the biggest misfit of all, of course) and then suddenly I am on my way back to Watford. I can feel my body tingling as my magic jumps happily inside of me. It’s brilliant, really. I _miss_ Watford. Baz would mock me for being sentimental. (I don’t think Baz knows how to be sentimental about anything.) But Watford is the only home I have ever known. The scones alone make Watford the greatest place on earth.

Over the summer, I miss Penny so much it makes my chest ache. I’m not allowed contact with her. The Mage says I need to stay close to the language, whatever that means. He says talking to Penny will stop that from happening. I know that I should miss Agatha more than I miss Penny. I’ve liked Agatha for a very long time, after all. Penny says I should ask Agatha on a date. I was going to last year. But I couldn’t make myself ask her. Every time I thought about doing it, I’d start to bluster. Baz says that I bluster more than anyone he’s ever met.

“Use your words, Snow,” he would sneer at me. Or “Spit it out, Snow. Crowley.” Baz would probably laugh at me for loving Agatha all this time and never asking her out. He’d probably say, “Ask her already, Snow. She has to say yes. It’s expected of you. The golden pair. Disgusting.” Baz has been saying things like that since we were 11. That me and Aggie are golden. That we are _destined._ He always says it with a sneer and perfectly pronounced words that hit me right in the chest. Baz always knows how to make me hurt the most. I hate him. I’m glad he isn’t back yet.

I got into Watford early this morning. Just after 8am. Penny isn’t here yet. But neither is Baz, so I have our room to myself. You’re roommate is supposed to be someone who is important to you. You’re supposed to be loyal to them, like brothers, the Mage told me, when I tried to get myself reassigned. “The Crucible gave you Baz, Simon,” he would say, every time I asked. “You need to learn to defend each other, like brothers.” But then the Mage would hint that I’d have to kill Baz, since he’s part of the Families. So I don’t really know what he was on about, being brothers with _Baz._ You aren’t supposed to kill your brother. Even I know that.

Being back at Watford means I can wear the uniform again. So I tug off my tracky bottoms (they have a hole over each knee) and threadbare hoodie and pull on my smart Watford clothing. I look at myself in the mirror. I’m taller than I was at the end of fourth year those couple of months ago. I wonder if I’m taller than Baz now. I hope I am. As I turn away from the mirror, the door opens and Baz walks in. He pauses when he sees me and his lips pull back in a sneer. (He’s always sneering.) I glower back at him. Mostly, because he’s looking at _me_ like that. Partly, because the git has grown as well, meaning he is still taller than me. His hair is longer too and it looks soft. Really soft. (For a moment, I imagine running my fingers through it. Then I glower deeper because it’s _Baz,_ for Crowley’s’ sake.)

“Snow,” he spits. Then he walks over to his bed and dumps his bag down. He unzips it and sets about putting his belongings away with carefully calculated perfectionism. He doesn’t look at me.

I don’t say anything. I just slam my way out of the room and head out to the dining hall. Maybe Penny will be there. And if she isn’t, there’ll be scones. And butter. (Merlin, I love butter.) When I enter the dining hall, I look around to try and spot Penny. I feel my shoulders sag slightly when I can’t see her. But then my gaze rests on Agatha. She is sat alone, daintily eating a slice of toast. She looks beautiful. (Agatha always looks beautiful. All golden hair and sparkling eyes. She looks like a fairy tale princess. I guess I understand why Baz and Penny say that we match. I’m the Chosen One and she’s a princess in her own right. We make sense.) When Agatha sees me, she smiles prettily. I wave at her, then head over to fill my plate with scones. (I take 4.) Once I have my breakfast plate filled to the brim, I walk over to Agatha and sit down opposite her.

“Simon,” she says, smiling brightly. “Have a good summer?”

I smile back at her so wide my cheeks hurt. “The same as always. You?”

Penny says that if I keep my sentences short, I might not bluster as much.

She laughs and I feel my cheeks turn pink at the sound of it. “I had lots of competitions,” she tells me.

Agatha loves to horse ride. I learnt this in our second year, when she was talking about someone named Jessica. It turned out Jessica was a horse and Minty was a person who rid her. Agatha loves to talk about horses and the show jumping she does over the summer. I never understand any of it, but every year I let her tell me about it.

“I got a new horse,” she says as I cover my scones in layers of butter and shove the first one in my mouth. (Baz says I eat like a stray dog that’s been starved for too long. I never bother telling him that I hardly eat over the summers. That I am basically a stray dog.) “She’s called Midnight. I took her through a show jumping circuit this summer. As well as an eventing competition.” I don’t know what this means, but I nod to show that I am listening. She talks for a while longer and I get up after a while to grab more scones, before returning to her side. I notice Baz walk in with Dev and Niall. I watch them as they grab their food and then find a table. Baz only has a tiny slice of toast and he covers his mouth the entire time he eats. He always does that. As though he’s some dainty princess that couldn’t possibly be seen chewing. I shove another scone in my mouth and chew extra messily just to spite him. He notices me staring at him and raises a single eyebrow at me, his lips curled in disgust. (I don’t know how he manages to do that eyebrow thing. It’s been bothering me ever since he started shooting me that look back when we were 11.)

“ _Simon_?”

I blink at Baz once, then turn back to Agatha, who is watching me with a fond look on her face. At least, I think it’s fond. She’s got this small, soft smile and her eyes are sparkling as though I have done something adorable.

“Are you already wondering what Baz is plotting this year?” she asks me. She sounds like a parent talking to a three year old. I flush.

“No,” I mutter, picking at my next scone. “But he will be plotting something. He’s _always_ plotting.”

“Simon.”

I huff. “He _is._ He set a chimera on me, Agatha. He pushed me down the stairs!”

Agatha rolls her eyes, but she is smiling. “Eat your scone, Simon.”

I do.

Once we are finished eating, Agatha suggests we go down to the court yard. I shrug. But I stand up and follow her out of the dining hall. I look at Baz once more before we leave. He isn’t watching me; he’s too busy with Dev and Niall. The court yard is busy with all the returning students. Agatha and I wander about until I hear my name being called. I turn and beam when I spot Penny running towards me. I hold out my arms and hug her tightly. She holds me just as firmly.

I love Penny. I’d never had a friend before her. Before Watford. She’s nothing like Agatha. Where Agatha is thin and pale, Penny is more firm and dark. Where I want to date Agatha, I want Penny as my best friend and family. When Penny pulls out of my arms, she is still smiling.

“Simon,” she says.

I grin. “Pen. Good summer?” I mean it when I ask her. Not like with Agatha.

Penny nods. “It was okay. Missed you,” she lightly punches my arm. Then she turns to Agatha and gives her a short, but firm hug. I grin at them both. Coming back to Watford always makes me feel _something._ That something is happy, I realize. The only time I’m ever truly happy is when I am here.

**Baz**

He’s too thin. Snow’s always too thin when we first come back to Watford. It wasn’t until last summer, between our third and fourth year, that I learnt that Snow goes back to a care home every summer. I’d been furious. Who does the Mage think he is? Dragging Snow to this magical place every year only to toss him back into some shithole for a few months each summer. It was that anger that made me realize that I was more gone on Simon Snow than I originally realized. (I’m so gone on him. I thought about kissing each of his moles all summer. I tried not to think about it. But not thinking about Snow is impossible.)

When he leaves our bedroom, I allow myself to close my eyes and just breathe in the scent of his magic which has filled the room without him even realizing it. I love the smell of his magic. It’s like a battery that charges me, that gives me motivation to get through the day. I miss his magic over the summers. I miss him. I try not to. (Crowley knows my father would be furious if he knew I was lusting after the Mage’s Heir.) But every time I close my eyes I see his bronze curls and blue eyes and those _moles_ that I have wanted to kiss since I was 12. I’m 15 now and I still want to kiss them. (The moles on his skin, I mean.) I wonder if he has moles all over his body. Snow and I never dress in front of each other, so I’ve never even seen him shirtless. I wish I knew how far his moles go. (But maybe it would be worse, knowing. And imagining kissing them in their exact locations on his chest…)

I open my eyes and shake my head slightly. Crowley. I haven’t even been back at Watford an hour yet. I head out of the room and make my way to meet Dev and Niall. I’d texted my cousin on my way in and we’d agreed to meet so that we could go and get food in the dining hall. When I spot Dev and Niall lounging by a wall outside Mummers, I smile. I’ve spent the summer with them both, so seeing them isn’t all that thrilling. Still, they’re my friends. Some of the few people I actually _like._ Good men.

We walk into the dining hall and I pointedly keep my eyes away from Snow. He’s sat with Wellbelove and I feel a tug of jealousyin my chest. I force it away. Once Niall, Dev and I are seated, Dev turns his eyes on me.

“Any plans for the Chosen One this year?” he asks, then turns to his food.

I roll my eyes. “Not yet. But I have no doubt the Families will come up with something soon enough.” It’s true. Fiona mentioned she had a plan, but she hasn’t told me yet. I hope it’s nothing too awful. I don’t _want_ to hurt Snow. It’s pitiful and disgusting and pathetic. I’m a Pitch for Crowley’s sake. Simon Snow is the enemy. And all I want to do is snog his stupidly handsome face.

I look up then and find him staring at me. I carefully raise an eyebrow and pull my face into a look of disgust. (Snow is disgusting. Chewing that scone like an animal.) He stares at me, his eyes alight. He’s so, so alive. Wellbelove says something and Simon blinks once before turning back to her. I sigh and tune back into Dev and Niall’s conversation.

Simon Snow may be the boy of my dreams. But I’m a Pitch. And he’s the Mage’s Heir. And no matter how much I want to snog him, we are still enemies. I need to remember that. Snow will never be _mine._ And the sooner I drill that into my head, the sooner I can accept having to kill him one day. 

***********

**Simon**

I used to fall asleep easily. I’d climb into bed, let my head rest on the pillow and in an instant, I’d be asleep. Things are different now. Over the summer, I ended up in a home with a boy who had it in for me. As soon as I closed my eyes I was vulnerable to him. To being beaten and punched or worse, _stabbed._ Keagan had already stabbed one of the kids in the house. (No one had been able to prove that it was him, but it was. I’d seen him with a knife. And that smug grin when Jasper was taken away in an ambulance.) Now, even though I’m safe (or as safe as I can be with _Baz)_ I can’t make myself fall asleep.

Baz is getting annoyed by it, too. He keeps looking over at me. I think. I can’t see him (it’s too dark) but I can sense it. After hours, I sit up in bed and sigh. I run my hands through my curls. (“Stop touching your hair, Snow,” Baz always spits. “It’s a wreck already without you making it worse.”) I look over at him now, but I still can’t see much, other than his lump. And I can hear the blankets moving. I’m so hot and I want the window open, but it’s our first night back and I don’t want to start fighting with him yet. And if I open the window, we will fight. Because where I am hot and burning, Baz is cold and icy. The slightest breeze and he’s shivering like a leaf. It’s a pity I can’t freeze him to death.

“What are you doing, _Snow?”_ Baz spits out so suddenly that I jump.

I whip my head back to look at him from where I am still sitting up in my bed. “None of your business,” I growl back, fisting my fingers in my duvet.

He sits up too, facing me. “It becomes my business when I can’t sleep because you’re moving about like a moron. Alesiter Crowley. _Go to sleep.”_

I glare at him. Even if he can’t see it. “I’m _trying.”_

Baz snorts. “Sleeping sitting up? Fucking hell, Snow. What next? Sleeping in the shower?”

I fume and I feel my skin burning. “I-but. _Shut up.”_

Baz sneers audibly. “I’ll shut up when you go the fuck to sleep, you absolute pillock.”

So much for not fighting. “It’s too hot,” I say sulkily.

He snarls. “It’s September, Snow, not fucking June. You open that window and I swear to Merlin I will end you.”

I’m not scared of Baz. He can’t hurt me when we are in our room. Anathema. But I am starting to feel tired and I do want to go to sleep without having a massive argument. So I compromise. I move out from under my blankets and then slowly peel off my sweat soaked pyjama top.

“What the fuck, Snow?” Baz says, sounding genuinely startled.

I feel smug at that. At his surprise. “It’s hot, Baz. And _someone_ won’t let me open the window.”

Then I lie down and close my eyes. I want to say goodnight (because it feels like the right way to end the conversation) but I don’t. Our very first night at Watford, I said goodnight. Baz had spit it back in my face, telling me to never say anything so friendly and _familiar_ again. But Baz (while he isn’t friendly) is familiar. I’m so used to falling asleep to the sound of him breathing and waking up to him humming in the shower when he thinks I’m still asleep. I’m used to his stupidly expensive cologne and aftershave and his fancy clothes and neatness and perfectionism. I’m used to him vanishing for hours to play his violin and coming back looking content. I’m used to seeing him sweaty after a football practise or match, even though I haven’t been to see our football team play since I was kicked off the team in first year. (Partly because I sucked. Mostly because I kept going off during practises.) So Baz is _familiar._ I wonder if he’ll cut me down again if I dare say goodnight for the first time in years. I press my lips together. No. I won’t say goodnight. Baz and I aren’t friends. We’re enemies. He _hates_ me. I force my breathing to steady and finally, I feel myself starting to fall asleep.

**Baz**

I’m fucking exhausted. I stayed up most of last night, waiting for Snow to go to sleep so that I could go hunting in the catacombs or the Wavering Wood. I was so hungry for blood that I couldn’t risk falling asleep and not being able to hunt until tonight. But the idiot wouldn’t go to sleep. He’s never stayed up like that before, except on the rare occasion when he’s been too worked up to sleep. But this was different. It was like he _couldn’t_ sleep. It wasn’t until I told him to go to sleep at fucking 3am that he finally did. And Merlin, when he took his top off. I can see in the dark, but not as well as I can in the day. I could make out his chest and abdomen (muscular, but not _too_ muscular) but I couldn’t see well enough to make out his moles. If he has moles on his chest. After he finally went to sleep, I snuck out to the catacombs and drained five rats. (Disgusting.)

I blink blearily. I don’t even know what class I’m in. For a moment I think it might be Greek. Or Chemistry. But then I notice Dev and Niall have their Magick books out. I dig mine out of my bag and force myself to focus. I half wish someone would cast a **_Your Attention Please!_** on me. I zone in and out during the lesson. I can’t be arsed with any of this.

After the days classes, I have football. Dev, Niall and I make our way down to the pitch. I love football. Not as much as I love the violin, but it’s close. Me and Dev played several one on one games over the summer. When we reach the pitch, Coach Mac and the team are already stretching. I don’t rush over to join them. Instead, I remain cool and collected as I drop my bag and saunter onto the pitch. I loose myself in practise. Here on the field I can forget about my infatuation with Snow, about being a vampire, about my father and our strained relationship that has become worse since I confessed to being gay over the summer. I can forget about everything except my team mates and the ball.

After practise, I walk back to Mummers with Dev and Niall. I say goodbye to them at the bottom of the stairs before climbing up to mine and Snow’s room. He’s already inside when I open the door. He looks up from his desk. I sneer. He glowers back and then turns back to his school work. I grab my pyjamas then step into the bathroom to shower. As I’m standing under the spray, I think about Snow last night, shirtless and sweaty. I want to lick that sweat right off of him. (I’m disturbed.) I force myself to wash my hair, ignoring the evidence of my arousal. (I’m not wanking when Snow is right next door.) Once I’m clean, I step out the shower, pull on my pyjamas and dry my hair. Then I carefully collect myself and step back into the room. Snow is still sat at his desk, focusing on whatever has gotten him so worked up. His magic is simmering and the pull of it (all smoky and light and powerful) is enough to get drunk on. He doesn’t look at me as I walk over to my bed and sit down. I pick up _Little Women_ (because yes, I am a romantic sap) and then sneakily grab a bag of salt and vinegar crisps from my stash. I tuck in as I continue reading from where I left off yesterday. But I don’t read much. Instead, I find myself watching Snow over the top of my book. Whatever work he is focusing on is truly driving him mad. What it could be, I don’t know. It’s only day one of classes, after all.

After a while, as he runs his hands through his bronze curls for the hundredth time, I close my book and sigh.

“Crowley, Snow. Your magic is all over the place. _What are you doing?”_

He swirls in his chair to glare at me. “Piss off, Baz.”

I roll my eyes. “ _You_ piss off. I can’t focus when your magic is trying to suffocate me.”

He grits his teeth and runs his hands through his hair _again._ He opens his mouth, then shuts it. I refrain from telling him he looks like a goldfish.Then he stands up, gathers his books and slams his way out of the room. I sigh as I stare at the shut door. His magic is still resonating through the room and I close my eyes and breathe it in. Alesiter Crowley, I adore the idiot. I slowly open my book and shove another crisp in my mouth. Now that he’s gone, I can eat more freely, so I shove a mouth full in, my fangs popping. Despite Snow being gone, I find myself still being unable to focus on my book. Now that he’s gone, the room is too quiet. Too empty. I miss him.

Crowley, I’m pathetic. My father would be horrified.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

**Baz**

The term drags on. Soon the first week is finished, then the second. But the third week of term, shit hits the fan. I’m sat in Miss Possibelf’s Monday morning class when the topic of vampires comes up.

“This lesson, we are going to be looking at vampires,” she says.

And I literally feel my heart stop. (I barely have a heart beat as it is.) I look around the classroom for a moment. Dev meets my gaze. As my cousin, he knows about my _condition._ He shakes his head slightly, silently telling me to keep calm. I school my face into my usual expression of blankness and focus on the lesson.

“What do we know about vampires?” Miss Possibelf asks.

Bunce shoots her hand straight up. “Not much,” she says. “We know how to kill them. They’re highly flammable. And they need blood to survive. Otherwise, the knowledge we have on vampires is very limited.”

Miss Possibelf nods. I risk a glance at Snow. He looks intrigued. I don’t think I’ve seen him look this interested in anything since our first week at Watford when he saw magic for the first time. His eyes are wide and so, so blue. I want to kiss him. (I always want to kiss him.)

“Vampires are dangerous,” Miss Possibelf continues and I tear my gaze away from Snow to focus. “They need to take life in order to have life. But they are never truly alive. Undead, is the correct term.”

I hate being reminded of the fact that I’m dead. That I’m unnatural. We never talk about my vampirism at home. When I first started to grave blood when I was nearly 13, my father just told me that the catacombs are crawling with rats and that there are plenty of animals in the Wavering Woods. He never had to tell me not to bite a human, a person. I could figure that out for myself, thank you very much. But the fact that I’m a vampire always lingers in the room when I’m around my father. Much like the fact that I am gay now lingers. My father had been horrified when I told him. He didn’t _say_ anything. And that’s how I knew it was bad. Then, when we were sat at the dinner table and Mordelia said, “Mother says you like boys,” father had put down his fork and very calmly said that we aren’t allowed to talk about it. What can they talk about when it comes to me? Not my being a vampire, not my liking boys. What a disappointment I am to him. To my mother. She literally set herself on fire rather than becoming a vampire. Like me. 

“I want you to read through the section on vampires in our text book. Then I expect a 500 word essay on this topic for next week,” Miss Possibelf tells us just as the lesson draws to a close.

I feel sick. I’ve managed to keep me being a vampire a secret all this time, because no one really thought about vampires. But now… I think about the glint in Snow’s eyes. When Snow makes his mind up about something, there is no stopping him. What if he figures it out. If Snow realizes what I am and he tells the Mage. I shake my head. No. Snow isn’t that clever. He won’t put it together. Besides, he’ll be too busy dealing with the Insidious Humdrum and the threats it sends to put together my being a vampire. Right?

Dev catches up with me as we file out of the classroom and he drags me off so that we are alone. “Are you okay?” he asks.

I smirk at him, even though my heart is hammering. “Of course,” I say smoothly. “I’ve managed to hide it this long. Everything will be fine.”

Dev nods, then claps me on the shoulder. “You’ll be fine, Basil.” Only my family calls me Basil. (Except my father. He calls me Basilton. No one calls me Tyrannus.)

I smirk at Dev. “Don’t you go getting soft on me,” I drawl, but Dev knows I’m only teasing him. He just rolls his eyes and then we continue on our way to our next class.

That evening, I’m sat in mine and Snow’s room, writing an essay on vampires (Oh, the irony), when Snow bursts in, his magic sizzling, his hair an even bigger wreck than normal. I blink at him, then quickly sneer when he turns his gaze to me.

“Baz,” he says, sounding a little breathless. For a moment, I imagine he is breathless with _want._ I imagine he’s staring at me like that because he’s come to the conclusion that he is as obsessed with me as I am with him and that that obsession has little to do with hate and more to do with –

“Baz,” he says again. He walks over to my desk and slams down a stack of books I didn’t even realize he was holding.

I scowl. “What do you want, Snow?” I turn back to my essay, careful not to look at him. (When he’s standing this close, I can smell him so clearly. His scent is made up of the Watford given, scentless soaps. But underneath that, there is something else. Not just his magic. But another scent. Woodsy and earth like and oh so addictive. He’s used my shampoo again. I can smell the apples radiating off him. He thinks that I don’t notice when he uses my shower products, but I do.)

He jabs the top book and I grit my teeth as I turn to look at it. Then I feel myself grow even paler as I take in the title. I make sure to keep my expression neutral as I turn to look at Snow. “Yes?” I pour as much bite into it as I can, but I think my voice comes out slightly more croaky than I intended. Snow looks at me hotly. His eyes are blazing, his skin red and he looks like he’s preparing to bluster.

“You – it says – I didn’t know!” He huffs and runs his fingers through his hair. It’s gorgeous. His arm muscles pull at his shirt when he does that and find myself watching the mole under his left ear. I want to kiss it. (I’ve always wanted to kiss it.) I look away. If I could blush, I would definitely be doing so right now.

“What, Snow? Use your words!” I scold him.

“You were there,” he says stupidly. “The nursery.”

I glare at the stupid book. Why my mother’s death had to be recorded in that book (and by inclusion, my being there when it happened) I’ll never know. I don’t want idiots like Snow coming across the horrors of that day. It’s none of their business. It’s none of _Snow’s_ business.

I stand up and go to grab my coat. I’m hungry. I might as well head into the Wavering Wood and drain a deer.

“Vampires killed your mum,” he says, not getting the hint. “How come? I mean – _you.”_

I turn back to him, glaring like I have never glared before. “If you want to ask me something, Snow, then ask me. I can’t understand your gibberish.”

“How are you alive?” he manages, staring at me.

_I’m not. I haven’t been alive since I was five years old._ I swallow. “My mother hid me as soon as the warning bell sounded.” Then I turn on my heel and stalk out of the room. Forget one deer. I’m feeling the urge to drain an entire herd of them. Fucking Snow.

**Simon**

Learning about vampires is fascinating. Penny says it isn’t healthy to be so obsessed with the topic, but then she said that I should keep looking into them if it means I’ll stop talking about Baz for once. I don’t tell her about Baz’s mother. I don’t know why. It just… feels wrong, somehow. But then I start thinking about how Baz was in the nursery. That means he must have seen his mother die. (No wonder he’s so fucked up.)

I’m in the library with Penny and Agatha. It’s a couple weeks into term and I still haven’t asked Agatha out. Penny says I have a complex. Like, I’ve built up this wall around the idea and made it into something that it isn’t. She says I need to break down the wall and just _“Ask her, Simon. Dammit.”_ But every time I look at Aggie, I start to feel sick. So I haven’t asked her yet. I will. I just need to “pluck up the courage, Chosen One.” (That’s what Baz said last week when he saw me staring at her.) For a moment, I’d thought Baz was being nice. But then he’d sneered and made an unnecessarily cruel remark and I’d had to go out into the Courtyard to calm down before I went off in the dining hall.

I look back down at the vampire book before me. Penny was right. Mage’s don’t know much about vampires. It’s frustrating. I’ve already finished my 500 word essay due next week and it’s only Thursday. That’s the first time ever that I’ve had my homework done early. I haven’t told Penny. She’ll make it into a big deal and I’m tired of everything being a big deal.

The book basically says nothing. Other than what we learnt in class. That vampires are flammable so if you see one, light ‘em up. It says that they need blood, but how often, it doesn’t tell us. Other than that, all the book has to offer is speculations. Maybe they are immortal. Maybe a cross will protect you. Maybe they have superhuman strength. Maybe this. Maybe that.

I think about Baz. Baz is the only person I know who has seen a vampire, other than the Mage, of course. I wonder if Baz would tell me about vampires if I asked him. I frown. Probably not. Baz and I don’t ask each other questions like that. We’re enemies. Not friends. And he’d probably tell me a load of shit just to spite me. Besides, he hasn’t spoken to me at all since Monday, not even to hex me or mock me. He leaves our room before I’m up and only comes back late when he thinks I’m already asleep. (I’m not. I stay awake until he comes inside. I don’t know why. Maybe he’s plotting.) I suppose asking about his mother was a bit much. I knew she’d died, but I didn’t know how. And then, there it was, laid out right before me in a history book about Watford. I suppose I shouldn’t have asked him. It’s his _mother._ And he saw her die. And that’s just wrong, no matter how much of an arse he is. Baz was five. I can’t imagine watching my mother being murdered when I was five. (I can’t really imagine it at any age, having never had a mother, but it must have been awful.)

I close the book and look over at Agatha and Penny. “Pen?” I ask, trying to get her attention.

She looks up at me. “Yes, Si?”

“Why did the vampires attack Watford?”

She frowns. “People assume it was the Humdrum. Why?”

I shrug and look down at the closed book. So Penny does know about Baz’s mother. “Was just wondering,” I mumble.

I look around the library. Baz has just come inside. He sits down at a table and pulls out his books. Then he seems to realize he’s being watched because he looks around. When his eyes land on me, he sneers, then focuses back on his work. I bite my lip. I want to talk to Baz. But I won’t. Not here. Instead, I watch him. Baz would be a pretty epic vampire. He has pale skin. (Like Edward in Twilight, except he doesn’t sparkle. Agatha made me watch those films with her last year.) His hair is so dark and always perfect and he walks around wearing smart clothes. He has to have cast a ** _Tidy up!_** on himself to always look that good. He’s not muscular either – not really. But he’s fit. So fucking fit that I’m surprised he’s never had a girlfriend. Or maybe he has and he decided to keep it private? I ball my hands into fists. It doesn’t feel right, not knowing.

He must be able to sense I’m still watching him because he looks up, directly at me, and raises one perfect eyebrow as if to say “What, Snow?” I can even hear it in his voice. I stare back at him, then flush and look back down at my book. Then I frown. Baz really would make a good vampire. And he was in the nursery when it was attacked. What if…? I look up at him again. Could _Baz_ really be a vampire? I don’t know. He could be. But is he?

“Penny,” I say, still watching Baz. “Could Baz be a vampire?”

A choking noise makes me look away from Baz and at Penny and Agatha, who are staring at me like I’ve grown another head.

Then Penny sighs wearily. “Simon,” she says, as though she’s talking to a child. “This obsession with Baz has got to stop. No, I don’t think he’s a vampire. Okay?”

I frown. “But he was in the nursery with his mum when vampires attacked?” I have to prove my theory. “And he’s really pale. And creepy. And he stays out all night!” I add in, thinking about how Baz doesn’t come back until just before midnight most days. Maybe he’s always done this and I didn’t realize because I used to fall right to sleep. “He _looks_ like a vampire. It makes sense! Right, Aggie?” I ask, trying to get her to agree with me. She just sighs and turns back to her book. I look back at Penny, desperate. “Penny?”

She shakes her head. “Leave Baz alone for once, Simon. I haven’t seen him do anything plot worthy this year. Let it go!”

I snap my fingers. “That’s it! He is so a vampire. He’s always plotting.”

Penny bangs her head on the table.

“I’ll prove it,” I tell her. “I’ll prove he’s a vampire.”

“Simon-“

“No!” I stand up, grabbing my books. “I’m going to prove that Baz Pitch is a vampire if it’s the last thing I do!”

**Baz**

I’m so fucking fucked. Part of being a vampire means I have super hearing, which means I had to listen to a very intense Simon Snow try to convince Wellbelove and Bunce that I am a vampire. And then hear him swear to prove it. Usually, I’d laugh off his idiotic attempts to prove I’m plotting because most of the time, I’m not plotting and therefore he has nothing to prove. But this time, he’s right. I am a vampire. All he has to do is test a few theories and the next thing I’ll know is my fangs being ripped out and my wand being snapped. I’ll no longer be a vampire (at least not a proper vampire.) or a Mage.

I wait until Snow has left the library, then slowly pack up my belongings and head to the music room. Playing the violin has always helped me think, and right now, I need to figure out what I’m going to do.

Once I enter the room, I lock the door behind me, using, **_lock and key,_** so that no one can get inside. Then I dump my bag and walk over to the locked cage where the instruments are kept. I set up my violin, adding rosin to the bow and tuning the strings, then I lift it into position and start to play. I work through a series of boring scales first, just to warm up. Then I play a couple of pop songs. Lastly, once I am well and truly into my practise, I start on the classical sonata I have been attempting to perfect. It’s the hardest piece I have ever played (a grade 8 piece) and I don’t quite have it up to speed yet. But if I play it at half the tempo, I can at least get all the notes and dynamics correct.

I don’t know what to do about Snow. Crowley, if I didn’t love him so much, I’d just kill him and hide his body so that no one could prove it was me.

I freeze, a loud G ringing around the room until I slowly put my violin down and stare at the wall. Do I love him? Do I actually love Snow?

When I was 12, I realized I wanted to kiss him. We’d been sat at our desks in our room, each working on our own assignment. Snow had made a sound of annoyance and I’d looked up to shout at him, but frozen instead. He’d has his hands in his hair and the sun was shining through the window, making his bronze curls shine. And his moles stand out. (Those stupid moles will be my downfall.) All I’d been able to think about was how much I wanted to press a kiss to the moles on his face. It was a terrifying thing to realize at 12. That you want to kiss your enemy, that is. Your very male enemy. When I was 13, it had gotten worse. We’d been fighting that stupid chimera and all I wanted to do was draw Snow to me and kiss him and make sure he was okay. I’d contemplated setting myself on fire, then. Last year was the worst. I’d started _dreaming_ about Snow and I’d wake up, desperate to wank about the boy in the bed beside mine. (Which, of course, I hadn’t.) It was half way through last year that I managed to get control over myself. The dreams stopped, I forced myself not to watch him as much and I’d managed to push my feelings aside. And now, here I am, not even a month into our fifth year, and I’ve realized I’m in love with the beautiful idiot.

Because I am. 100%. Completely and utterly, hopelessly in love with Simon Snow.

I could cry. I want to cry. Because this is quite possibly the worst thing that has ever happened to me. Worse than me becoming a vampire. Worse than my mother dying. I am in love with a boy who hates me. A boy who is going to kill me. A boy who is dead set on proving that I am a vampire. And there is nothing I can do to stop it. Because I love him. And I can’t hurt him. Not really. I sit down on the floor in the middle of the music room. Then, because I am pathetic and worthless, I bring my knees to my chest and I start to sob.

***************

When I finally go back to the bedroom, I try desperately not to look at Snow. It’s late, nearly midnight, but I can tell Snow is awake, just like he has been every night for the past few weeks. His new sleeping pattern is a nightmare. (He’s a nightmare.) How am I supposed to go hunting when he’s staying up every night? He’s already convinced I’m a vampire, for Crowley’s sake. I hurriedly change clothes in the bathroom, then move back into the room to go to bed. However, unlike the previous nights, Snow is sat up in bed, staring at me.

I sigh and go to get into my bed, studiously ignoring him. As I snuggle down under the covers, Snow says, “Where were you?”

I lie down with my back to him. “Go to sleep, Snow,” I mutter.

“No. Baz – what,” he stops, pausing. “ _Baz.”_

I grit my teeth and roll over to look at him, because when have I ever been able to deny him anything. He’s still sitting in bed. Staring at me. A sick part of me is glad to be the centre of his attention. (I horrify myself.) He looks like a beautiful mess. An _angelic_ mess. His hair is all over, he looks as beautiful as always. Bronze curls. Blue eyes. And so, so alive.

“I was in the catacombs,” I tell him.

He blinks. I can see it, even though it’s dark. A gust of wind blows through the open window and I shiver. Snow burns hot, I know that. It’s his magic. It makes him turn into a furnace. The only time I’ve felt that heat up close and personal is when we’ve fought and I’ve been able to actually touch him. Merlin and Morgana, touching Snow is an experience. Even if it is in the middle of a fist fight.

More wind blows through the window and I shudder. I grab my wand and cast **_Open and Shut._** The window slams shut. Snow glares, but I ignore him and snuggle under the covers.

“Why were you in the catacombs?” he asks. He’s like a cat chasing a mouse. When he gets his head fixed on something, there is nothing you can do but go along with it.

I sigh. “My mother is buried down there,” I tell him. I leave out the fact that the catacombs are my hunting ground.

He’s silent for a moment. I can literally hear the wheels turning in that gorgeous head of his.

“Sorry,” he growls out. It sounds strained. Like the word comes out of its own accord. Snow and I never apologise. I’ve never said sorry for punching him or setting the chimera on him or anything. And Snow has never said sorry for any of the shit he’s done to me either. Although he’d probably say I don’t deserve an apology because I start everything. That isn’t true. He starts most things by looking so damn edible. Hatred is my only defence.

I force out a dark laugh. “No you’re not. Go to sleep, Snow.” _Please go to sleep before you make me do something I’ll regret. Like climb into bed with you and kiss you. Like tell you that I’m in love with you. I’m so, so in love with you. I think it’s going to kill me._

Snow doesn’t say anything. But he lies back down in his bed and closes his eyes. (I know because I’m watching him.) I watch him as he slowly falls asleep. I watch him as his chest rises and falls and sweat covers his body because the window is shut. (He hates it when the window is shut.) I watch as he moves as he dreams, his eyes flickering as the moonlight shines through on him. He’s so alive. He got my share of it. Oh, Simon Snow. What is going to become of us? What is going to happen when we finally go to war? Because I won’t be able to kill you. I’ll never be able to kill you. And that will be my downfall.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the third chapter. Enjoy! xxx

**Chapter Three**

**Penny**

I worry about Simon. We’ve been back at Watford for a month and he’s finally starting to put some weight back on. He’s always so thin and stretched and sickly when he returns to Watford. I don’t understand how the Mage can think sending Simon back to those homes is helpful to him. Because it isn’t. Not at all. Simon is the most loving person I have ever known. He’s like a puppy. And puppies need to be around people. They need to be shown love and affection. Sending Simon back into care… he doesn’t get any love or affection there. He doesn’t even get food half the time.

I really worry about Simon. Ever since our lesson on vampires the other week, he’s become obsessed. Specifically with proving that Baz is a vampire. He’s gotten it into his head that Baz was turned when his mother was killed. It makes sense. But at the same time, it _doesn’t._ Vampires are monsters. And Baz, whilst he’s a stuck up, posh, cruel git, is no monster. Simon would disagree. He’s always been overly obsessed when it comes to Baz, though. They are both far too absorbed with each other. Sometimes, I think there is more behind the hatred. Sometimes, I think that they are so in love with each other that their hatred is the only way they can cope. And then other times I tell myself off for thinking such a ridiculous thing. But maybe it isn’t so ridiculous. Sometimes, when Simon isn’t looking, Baz stares at him with this expression of pure _longing_ and _agony_ on his face. And it has gotten worse this year. Back in fourth year, I would catch Baz watching Simon almost affectionately. But now, in fifth year, Baz just looks so pained. Maybe he really is in love with Simon…

Simon. The idiot. A couple of days ago he came and asked me for a cross necklace. He’s adamant that Baz is a vampire and that he can prove it. I gave him the cross this morning. I only hope that he doesn’t do anything stupid. Oh, Simon. Baz. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. This hatred. This at each other’s throats business. Maybe Baz really does love Simon. And maybe Simon loves Baz. I don’t know. All I know, is there has to be more to their hatred than what they say. It can’t purely be because Simon is the Mage’s Heir and Baz is the enemy, part of the Families.

I worry about Simon. I just don’t know how to help him. I don’t know how to make any of this better.

**Simon**

Penny gave me the cross necklace I asked for this morning. Now, I just need to keep it on and see how Baz reacts. I don’t even know if vampires are affected by such things. It doesn’t say in any of the books. I’ve been watching Baz closely, though. I even went down to the catacombs to check that his mother really is buried there. (She is.) I think I’m going to have to up my game. Not stalk him, per say. But follow him. (Penny would tell me that that is stalking. I’m just going to have to disagree.) If Baz is a vampire, then that makes him dangerous. Is that where he goes every night? Off campus so that he can go and drain some poor Normal. Does he turn them into his vampire followers? Does he kill them? I don’t know.

I’ll follow him tonight. He has football practise today. Lots of people watch the team practise. I could go and watch, then follow him. He used to come straight back to the room and shower (he’s too posh for locker rooms) but he’s stopped doing that now. I asked Dev if Baz is using the locker room showers. Dev had looked confused. And disturbed. I suppose it _was_ a weird question. Then he’d said I’d have to ask Baz myself. I didn’t. But Baz came back to our room late at night and he was _clean._ Not **_Clean as a Whistle_** clean, but a proper shower clean. So he has to be using the locker rooms.

After our last class of the day, I grab Penny and drag her down to the football pitch with me.

“Are we really stalking Baz?” Penny asks. But she lets me pull her along to the practise.

I nod. “I’m sure he’s a vampire. I just need to find out where he goes every night.”

I’m a bit nervous. I know other people watch practises, but _I_ don’t. But when Penny and I take a seat on the bleachers, no one really pays us attention. Other than to look at me, breathe in my magic, then turn back to the pitch. But then Baz steps out onto the field with Niall and Dev. (Pitch on the pitch. Ha!) He seems to pause and sniff the air, as though he can sense my magic. (Maybe he can. We do live together, after all. He’s the only one who doesn’t seem to get consumed by my magic at times. Even Penny and Agatha get sucked in occasionally. But never Baz.) Then his eyes whip around and land on me. His usually cool expression falters for a moment. He looks surprised. Startled. Disorientated. Then he swallows and looks away. Dev and Niall glance at me. Then Niall swings his arm around Baz’s shoulders and says something that makes Baz laugh. Really laugh. I never hear him laugh. He should do it more often. It makes him look less emo. More… beautiful. (I shouldn’t be thinking that Baz is beautiful. He’s a boy. He’s my enemy. I hate him.)

“That was weird, right?” I nudge Penny. “The way he looked at me?”

Penny sighs. “You’re always looking at each other, Si.”

I watch the practise intently. Baz is really good. He scores several goals during the practise match and is faster than the other boys in the sprints. But that could be his creepy vampire strength. Couldn’t it? Once practise is done, he heads into the locker rooms with the other boys.

“Come on, Penny,” I say as I drag her over to lurk around the locker rooms, trying not to look too suspicious. Or creepy. We try to stay a safe distance away, because Baz can smell my magic and I don’t want him to know we’re following him. Finally, after everyone else has left, Baz steps out of the locker room. He doesn’t look in mine and Penny’s direction. He just turns towards the school and starts to walk.

“Let’s go, Penny,” I whisper.

She snorts and I shush her. “Honestly, Si. The things I do for you.”

We follow him slowly. We can’t get too close in case he sees us. We walk and walk until he makes his way into the catacombs. It’s a maze down here and I’m scared that we’ll get lost if we don’t stay close to Baz. (I got lost when I came to see if his mother was down here. It took me ages to find my way out. But this time, Penny is with me. She’ll be able to get us out.) But Baz is moving quickly and soon, he has disappeared into the darkness. Fuck.

“We’ve lost him,” I say to the darkness.

Penny lifts her hand and casts a spell and suddenly there is a dull, torch-like light. We look at each other.

“Should we go back?” she asks me.

I shake my head. “We might be able to find him still. Come on, Pen. This is weird, right?”

“Stalking Baz? Yes,” she deadpans.

“No! I mean, him being down here.”

She rubs a hand over her face. “It _is_ weird,” she admits. “Come on. Let’s keep looking.”

We wander about aimlessly, but after a couple of hours, we accept defeat and make our way back to our bedrooms. Outside Mummers House, I hug Penny.

“Thanks for coming with me,” I say.

“You should take Agatha next time,” Penny jokes. “As a date.”

I laugh and feel my cheeks heating up. “Night, Penny.”

“Goodnight, Simon.”

I walk up the stairs back to mine and Baz’s room in Mummers House. An hour after I get into bed, Baz steps into the room and goes straight to bed. I grit my teeth. I’m not giving up that easily. I’ll find out what he’s up too. I _will._

_*******_

  
A few weeks into my stalking (because yes, I am stalking Baz.) I decided to go and visit Ebb. I’ve only been to see her a couple of times since term started back in September and I feel guilty. I’ve spent far too much time stalking Baz to pay attention to my friends, according to Penny. She’s right. I still haven’t asked Agatha out either. I want to… but it just doesn’t seem important. Finding out the truth about Baz is more important. Penny had snapped when I told her that.

“You’re too obsessed!” she’d shouted. I’ve rarely seen Penny shout and never directed at me. “You’ve dragged me around Watford every day for weeks, following him. Go and talk to him! Become friends! I don’t know! Do whatever you have to do to stop being creepily obsessed with the bloke. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were in love with him.”

She’d apologized, of course. But I haven’t been able to get what she said out of my head. Me? In love with Baz? I like Aggie. I hate Baz. I don’t – I can’t – love him. He’s a boy. And he’s evil. And a vampire. And he’s going to kill me. And he’s a boy. I’m not gay. I like Agatha. Me and Agatha are destined. Right?

I reach Ebb’s and spot her with a couple of the goats. I walk over to her.

“Hello, Simon,” she says, smiling.

I grin. “Hello, Ebb. How are the goats today?”

“They’re good, Simon. Very good.”

I stay with her for a while, playing with the goats, giving them fresh water. We talk as we work. I tell Ebb about my classes. She asks if anything bad has happened this year.

I shake my head. “Not yet. Nothing from the Humdrum.” That alone has me on edge. Usually the Humdrum has done something by now. Sent a dragon or something. But no… nothing. And the Mage not being here is also putting me on edge. He’s never vanished for a term before. But Miss Possibelf told me he won’t be here till after Christmas because he’s dealing with a problem.

Ebb pauses, her hand on a goats head, petting it. “Nothing? Mm. Strange.” Then she starts talking about other things, random things that I don’t understand. She always does that. I love Ebb. She’s one of the few Mage’s that doesn’t seemed bothered by my power. Maybe because she is so powerful herself.

Then, after a while, I blurt out, “What do you know about vampires?”

Ebb pales drastically and I immediately feel guilty. “It’s for a school project!” I rush out. “And the Watford library doesn’t have much on them. The Mage still hasn’t seen me this term so I can’t ask him.” I don’t even know where the Mage is.

“What do they say about Nicky?” Ebb whispers to herself.

I frown. “Nicky? No one says anything about Nicky.” Who’s Nicky? Ebb’s never mentioned a Nicky. No one has. “I just wanted to know about vampires.”

“He left,” Ebb whispers some more. “He left. I told him no. I said it was wrong. But Nicky was always headstrong and a fool. He wanted me to go too. We were everything, me and Nicky. Oh, Nicky,” she keeps murmuring.

When Ebb gets stuck inside her head, there isn’t much you can do, so I take her inside her house and settle her in with a cup of tea. I stay with her for a few more hours, before I return to the football pitch so that I can follow Baz to the catacombs this evening. Like always. He is on the pitch by the time I get there. But he looks drawn. Paler than usual. He’s looked like that for a while. Like he’s given up. His snide remarks lack their usual bite and he seems thinner than normal. If I didn’t hate him so much, I’d be worried. (I am worried.) Last night, I asked if he was okay. He’d laughed in my face. But it wasn’t a cruel laugh. It was a bitter, exhausted laugh.

“No, Snow, I’m not okay,” he’d said. Then he’d left the room. I’d followed, of course, and stalked him around the catacombs for at least 4 hours before I lost him. He’d come back even later than normal – after 3am – and when he’d turned on the light for the bathroom, I’d seen tear tracks on his cheeks. I feel bad about trying to prove that he’s a vampire now. It seems he has enough going on. But he doesn’t know that I’m stalking him, does he. So he can’t be worked up by that. But something _is_ wrong. Something has been wrong since a couple of weeks into the term. It shouldn’t bother me, but it does. Maybe it’s a plot? Maybe he wants me to feel sorry for him. Maybe this is all a big plot to make me lower my shields. No… that doesn’t make sense. Not at all. That is so not Baz. Baz is stealthy. He’s smart (wicket smart) and his schemes are always more in your face, like the chimera and pushing me down the stairs. He wouldn’t go all mopey and depressed just to lure me in. This is Baz. Always calm and collected and put together and perfect. Never a hair out of place.

I watch him on the football pitch. (Penny has stopped coming with me every day. She says she won’t stalk him more than once a week.) He’s not playing well today. He keeps missing the goal and his team mates are shooting him concerned looks. Dev and Niall pull him aside and they say something. Baz shakes his head and storms off the pitch.

“Mr Pitch!” Coach Mac shouts after him.

But Baz keeps going. I hurry from my spot and follow him. He doesn’t go to the catacombs. Instead, he goes to the music rooms. He slams his way inside one of them and locks the door using magic. Then, I hear him start to cry. I sit on the other side of the door as I listen to him sob. He seems to be stifling his crying, as though trying to stop someone from overhearing. Then, after a while, the crying fades and he starts to play his violin. He’s good. Really, really good and I lean my head against the wall and close my eyes as I listen.

I wonder what’s wrong with Baz? I hope he’s okay. I don’t know why, but I do. He’s _Baz._ He has to be okay. Who would I be without my nemesis? I don’t know. I don’t know what I’d do without Baz. I sigh and hug my knees to my chest as I let the music lull me to sleep.

***********

**Baz**

Snow is being unbearable. He’s following me everywhere. He comes to my football practices, he sits outside the music room when I play my violin. He follows me into the catacombs every night. But thankfully, I know my way around them and it’s easy to lose him. Seeing Snow everywhere is a nightmare. I’m trying to come to terms with loving him. I’m trying to figure out how to live with it. But everywhere I turn, there he is. Watching me. Stalking me. I’m never alone anymore. It’s breaking me.

Snow doesn’t seem to realize. He prods me with vampire related questions, he’s wearing that fucking cross (and I have to be careful not let him get too close so that he can’t see that it hurts me). He follows my every move. Once upon a time, I would have been delighted to have so much of his attention. By now it simply _hurts._ It hurts having him there all the time and not really having him. It hurts knowing the only reason he is paying me this much attention is so that he can prove that I’m a vampire and have me expelled. The only good thing is that no one believes him.

“He’s not a vampire, Simon!” Bunce told him just yesterday. “And even if he is, it’s none of our business!”

“But vampires are evil,” Snow had argued. (Ouch.) “He’s probably off killing people as we speak!”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Bunce had sighed out, looking exhausted. I couldn’t help but wonder how many times they’d had this conversation.

“What proof have you got?” Wellbelove had asked, twirling her hair and offering him a flirtatious smiles. Snow, however, had seemed too engrossed in talking about me to notice. Good.

I mentally prepare to walk out of the locker room, knowing Snow is waiting for me. I can smell his magic a mile off. I don’t know how he thinks I haven’t noticed him stalking me. I’m almost relieved that this is our last week before I go home for Christmas. I’ll be leaving for Pitch Manor in three days and I’ll finally have a break from Simon Snow. I step out of the locker room and this time, I head for the Wavering Wood. Because I’m sick of rats and want something less gross. Snow instantly starts tailing me. I step into the trees, wondering how I can ditch him. I’m fast, but he’s determined. And unlike the catacombs, he knows these woods. Once we are far enough in, I am contemplating ditching him when suddenly there is a strange feeling in the air. The same feeling I always feel when the Humdrum sends something after Snow. Like a sucking, draining sensation. _Hungry._

I whiz around and dash back to Snow. He looks startled. “Snow. Do you feel that?”

“What-but. How did you know?” he stammers.

I roll my eyes. “I’ve always known you were stalking me. But do you feel that?”

He swallows and nods. “The Humdrum.” He looks grim.

I stand next to him and look around, my wand in hand. Beside me, Snow says, “ ** _In justice. In courage. In defence of the weak. In the face of the mighty. Through magic and wisdom and good.”_** The Sword of Mages leaps into his hand and he stands, battle ready. I love seeing him like this, preparing to fight. I love him.

The sucking feeling gets worse, then, out of nowhere, several deranged looking animals (deer, bats, birds) charge at us.

“What the fuck?” I spit as they run and fly towards us. I was not expecting that. I glance to the side and see Snow staring at them, looking just as stunned. Then his expression changes into determination and he breathes out, holding his sword more tightly.

“Baz,” he says, eyes on the animals.

I look back at the creatures and raise my wand. **_“Dead in the Air!”_** I shout. Some of the birds and bats drop dead instantly. But there are too many of them and I’m not strong enough. **_“Run for your life! Fuck off and die!”_** Of course, since they are animals, not people, the spells don’t quite work. Some of the animals stop moving, but most of them keep on coming. They’re on us now. Snow is using his sword like the expert he is, cutting them down as they get too close.

**_“Dead in the air!”_** I shout again as more birds and bats descend on us and several more drop dead. But there are too many of them. “Snow!” I yell at him. “We can’t take them all on!” I shoot off another couple of spells. “We need to go!”

But Snow, the stubborn bastard that he is, just keeps on waving his sword. “Step back from me!” he yells.

A moment later, I feel his magic start to burn. Shit. I scramble back so that I’m not too close when Snow loses it and then he raises his wand in the air and shouts, **_“Dead in the air!”_**

He explodes, his magic shooting all over the place. I close my eyes and let his power wash over me. Then, just as suddenly as it came, it dims, like a smouldering fire instead of a flame. I peel my eyes open. The scene before me is horrific. Snow is standing in the middle of a swarms of dead bats, birds and deer that are singed and burnt. He looks a wreck and he’s panting heavily, his sword dangling heavily from his hand and his wand in the other. Then he slowly tucks his wand away.

I stand up and slowly walk over to him, stepping over the dead animals. “Snow,” I say calmly and I reach out and take his free hand. “Snow.”

He looks up at me, his eyes wide in horror. “I didn’t mean – I just wanted them to stop. I didn’t mean to kill all of them!” He’s on the verge of panic.

“You had to,” I say slowly, and I let my thumb rub over his hand. Because I’m weak. And holding Snow’s hand is a gift I intend to make use out of. “The Humdrum sent them, Snow. And you had to use your magic so that you could save us both. That was a God like display of magic, Snow. You did good, okay, Miracle Boy?”

He swallows. He has such a showy swallow and I think about mouthing up his throat. But now is not the time, so I look back up into his eyes. “We need to go. The drawbridge will be going up soon and we’ll be stuck out here all night.”

“Shit,” he breathes, finally realizing what’s happening.

Then the two of us are running through the forest as fast as we can. But when we step out of trees and run across the football pitch, the drawbridge is already up.

“Fuck,” he says stupidly, staring at it.

“Fuck, indeed,” I mutter. I’m too distracted by the fact that Snow and I are still holding hands. He doesn’t seem to have realized and _I’m_ not going to make a show of it. I’ll hold onto him for as long as he’ll let me because I really am that desperate. The cross around his neck is barely effecting me. Maybe because I’m so full of adrenaline from the Humdrum’s attack. Maybe because I’m so fucking pleased to be stuck outside for the night with the love of my life. Maybe because he’s holding my hand and he hasn’t pulled away yet.

Snow sighs and he finally puts his sword away. Then he looks down and blushes, realizing our predicament. He sits down, pulling me with him, then he lets go. I force myself not to show how disappointed I am. I move about to get comfortable on the grass. I make sure to sit a bit closer to Snow than I usually would. He doesn’t seem to mind. At least, he hasn’t glared at me yet. He sighs and stares at the drawbridge.

“Maybe we could climb over it? There has to be a spell for flying, right?”

I don’t tell him that I could probably cast **_On love’s light Wings_** because then he’ll want to know who I’m in love with and I can hardly tell him it’s _him,_ can I? “No,” I tell him. “We’re stuck here until morning. Sorry, Snow.”

He huffs and pulls at the grass. “It’s not your fault,” he mutters.

I raise an eyebrow. “That’s a first,” I joke, then grimace when I realize I said it without any bite at all. It was too jokey. Like something Bunce would say to him, not something that I would.

But Snow just lets out a small chuckle and shoves my shoulder playfully. “Don’t get used to it.” He pauses and looks at me, biting his lip. I have to force myself to look at his eyes and not his lip trapped between his teeth and looking so tempting. “Thank you,” he says, looking far too sincere. “You could have ran off and pretended you didn’t know I was following you. But you didn’t. You stayed to help.” He swallows. “Thank you.”

I stare at him. We’re actually doing this? We’re being… polite? “I could hardly leave the Chosen One alone,” I say. His face closes off instantly and I wince. Snow hates being called the Chosen One. “But thank you,” I say hurriedly. “For… doing that spell. It saved us both. My spells weren’t doing much and there were only so many you could kill with your sword. So thank you.” I know how dubious Snow is of using his magic. You never know quite what will happen when he casts a spell. His magic is so unpredictable.

He smiles. It’s a small smile. Not one of those massive beams he often has on his face around Wellbelove and Bunce. But it is genuine and he’s aiming it at me, so I smile back at him. He chuckles lightly.

“Look at us. Being friendly. Penny would be proud.”

“Oh?” I ask, feigning nonchalance when really I’m desperate to know why Bunce would be happy that we are getting on.

Snow grins. “She thinks I’m too obsessed with you and that we should be friends so that I’ll get over it.”

I would be blushing now if I had had the chance to feed. “You _are_ too obsessed with me,” I tell him. “You’ve been following me all term!”

He huffs. “I wanted to prove that you’re a vampire,” he tells me.

I’m surprised he’s being so honest. “I know,” I say back, grinning.

He looks at me, startled. “How?” he demands.

I laugh, genuinely, and I notice a flicker of surprise on his face. I suppose he never hears me laugh because usually all we do is fight so I mock him with laughter or such, but I never sound happy. “You weren’t exactly subtle. You bought a cross. You stalk me whenever I go visit my mother in the catacombs. You watch my practises and listen to me play the violin. I’ve heard you telling Wellbelove and Bunce. You’ve been reading every vampire book the library owns. You even asked Dev about where I shower after football practise!”

He blinks at me, his cheeks red. “Well, it makes sense,” he mutters.

Yes. It does.

He bites his lip and looks back at the drawbridge. “Are you a vampire?”

I laugh again. “ _No._ But I’d hardly tell you if I was, would I? You just want to tell the Mage and have me expelled!”

“I won’t,” he says instantly.

I snort. “You’ve spent all term trying to prove it. Why would you change your mind now?”

“Because you aren’t evil,” he says. “I’ve followed you for months and all you do is go to the catacombs. The only thing down there is rats,” he wrinkles his nose. “Which means if you are a vampire, you haven’t been out killing people. Which means you aren’t an evil vampire like I thought. So the Mage doesn’t need to know.”

I stare at him. Is he for real? I swallow down the emotion threatening to rise and say, “Thanks, Snow. But I’m not a vampire.”

He nods, looking a bit disappointed, but he stops asking me. We sit in silence for a while, the stars shining above us. I imagine that we are on a date. We’d have a blanket and picnic and curl up together under the stars, picking out the constellations and kissing. I’ve never kissed anyone before. I’ve never wanted to kiss anyone but Snow. I like this, now. How we are. Not fighting. Just… being.

There is a wolf howl echoing from the woods and Snow reaches out and takes my hand as he looks around. I’m startled, but when the howling fades away and Snow doesn’t let go of my hand, I allow myself to interlace our fingers and squeeze back. I know I can’t have Snow. He doesn’t want this, want me. But if I can keep this little piece of him, holding hands under the stars, then I will. Because I will never get this chance again, and I’m hardly going to waste such a brilliant opportunity.

Snow lies down at some point, pulling me with him, and we lie there, are hands locked together and our shoulders touching, until we fall asleep, the stars twinkling above us.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next chapter! Sorry for the lack of Simon and Baz interacting in this chapter. It's cause they are apart for the Christmas break, but I promise all the chapters after this one are full of Simon and Baz being adorable idiots.

**Chapter Four**

**Simon**

Going back to Agatha’s house for the Christmas holiday has become a routine. Every December, I leave Watford to spend it with Aggie’s family. Penny comes over. We watch _Doctor Who_ and soppy Christmas films. We bake cookies and decorate the Christmas tree. It’s one of my favourite times of the year. Because I never got to do Christmas. Not properly. Not until Agatha took me home in first year because she didn’t want to see me stay at Watford by myself. Penny would have me over. I know that. But her mum doesn’t trust me. She never wanted Penny to become friends with me in the first place. (I’m glad Penny didn’t listen.)

This Christmas is no different. The three of us are squished on the sofa watching David Tennant say goodbye to Billie Piper and Agatha and Penny are sniffling (I’m usually sniffling too.) But all I can think about is Baz. And that night last week, before we left Watford. That night when we slept under the stars, holding hands. I don’t know why I held his hand. I wanted to. (Why would I want that?) It felt nice. His fingers were calloused. Maybe from the violin playing? He does play for a long time. (Once, I sat outside the music room for just under 3 hours.) Of course, stalking Baz has let me get to know him better. I know how he takes his tea (sugary) and how long it takes him to shower after football (15 minutes.) I know where he hangs out with his friends, what books he reads in the library, where he goes to be alone for a while. I’ve followed him around the catacombs night after night and while I’m still positive he’s a vampire, I don’t think he’s evil. I don’t think he’d hurt anyone. I don’t think he’d hurt me. He could have. We slept outside of our room so the Anathema wouldn’t have stopped him. But he didn’t. He just held my hand and slept. And the next day, we walked up to our room, still holding hands. It wasn’t until he went to shower that he let go. And it wasn’t like everything magically changed after that. Because it didn’t. But it didn’t not change either. For the last two days of term, I stopped stalking him as much. But I still followed him a bit because I will prove he’s a vampire, even if it’s just for me to know. And he stopped insulting me. Instead, he ignored me. Or nodded at me in greeting. But he didn’t say anything cruel for a change. I don’t know what to do about that. I don’t know what to do about any of it.

“Simon?”

I blink and look over at Penny and Agatha. They are watching me curiously. I glance at the TV and see that the episode of _Doctor Who_ has finish.

“What’s up, Simon?” Penny asks, sounding concerned.

Agatha takes one of my hands in both of hers. “You’ve been daydreaming all day, Simon?” she says softly.

I stare at her. I can hardly tell her I’m thinking about Baz. All they do is tell me I’m too obsessed. Maybe I am. Baz is on my mind. Constantly. “Sorry,” I tell them. “I’m just concerned about the Humdrum and the Mage.”

Agatha nods in understanding. “It is strange that the Humdrum hasn’t sent anything after you yet.”

I feeling a bit guilty that I didn’t tell them about the animals in the Wavering Wood. But then I’d have to tell them I was following Baz. And everything that happened after that. I blush just thinking about it. That night feels special, like a secret. One that I don’t want to share yet.

“And the Mage being away is different,” Penny adds. “But I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about. He would have told you if it was important.”

He would. The Mage always tells me when he needs me to do something. He sends me off on missions and quests even if it means my school work is forgotten. The Mage always talks to me when he needs me.

Penny stands up and stretches. “Who wants to bake?”

Agatha grins and gets up, pulling me with her. We head into the kitchen. The three of us have a routine when it comes to baking. Penny gets out all the ingredients, Agatha measures everything out and I do the actually baking bit. Then, once the batter or cookie dough is made, Penny and Agatha pour the cake mix into a dish or roll the cookies out onto the trays.

“What should we make?” Agatha asks, flipping through her recipe book.

I lean over her shoulder. “How about those chocolate chip cookies we made a couple years ago?”

Penny laughs. “We’ll have to triple the mix. Last time you ate basically all of them, Si.”

I grin sheepishly. “I love food.”

“We know,” they say, giggling.

Penny reads through the list and starts to gather the ingredients. As she does, Agatha plugs her phone into the speaker system and lets Christmas tunes fill the kitchen. It’s so homey and cosy and everything I always dreamed of having. A family. A home. And while Agatha’s house isn’t my home and her parents aren’t my family, this is as close as I’m ever going to get. Agatha nudges me gently as she stands beside me and she smiles up at me. She’s so golden. So beautiful. I smile back at her.

Penny finishes getting out the ingredients and Agatha starts measuring them. As she finishes measuring each item, I add it into the bowl and mix. Once the cookie dough is made, Penny and Agatha use the cookie cutters to make shapes while I tidy up the kitchen. Soon, everything is in the oven and we sit at the kitchen counter while we wait for them to finish baking. Then my favourite Christmas song (Fairytale of New York) comes on and I drag Agatha with me to stand in the middle of the kitchen. We sway and sing together as the slow beginning plays while Penny groans.

“Neither of you can sing!” she shouts, but she’s grinning and humming along from her perch on the barstool by the counter.

Agatha and I hold onto each other’s arms and sway in a slow circle. It’s far from romantic slow dancing. We probably look more like drunken hobbits than anything. When the music picks up, I grab Penny’s hand and make her dance with us. It’s more belting out the lyrics while holding onto each other than anything, but it’s fun and carefree and I love it.

“You’re a bum, you’re a punk,” Aggie sings, jumping up onto the counter and pointing at me as she laughs.

“You’re an old slut on junk,” I follow, grinning as Penny sings with me. “Lying there almost dead on a drip in that bed.”

We sing along to the rest of the song and by the time it ends we are all breathless and laughing. I’m holding onto Penny’s arm while Agatha leans against me, her laughter brushing against my shoulder. Then the oven beeps and we step apart so that Penny can check on the cookies.

“Ready,” she proclaims, using the oven gloves to remove the trays from the oven. Once they are out, we scoop them off the tray and onto a cooling rack. I manage to sneak one and chew on it happily before Penny notices.

“Thief!” she proclaims.

Agatha shakes her head and shoves one in her mouth. “We better eat one before Simon devours them, Penelope,” she says.

We each eat a couple of cookies before Penny has to leave. Then it’s just me and Agatha again. Her parents are still out so we go up to Agatha’s room. I lie on her bed and think about Baz some more while she calls her Normal friend Minty from horse riding. She sits on her desk chair, laughing and talking and I block it out. I wonder what Baz is doing now. Christmas with the Grimm-Pitch’s must be very posh. Baz is posh. (His first name is _Tyrannus.)_ They probably lounge about in suites eating caviar and other posh shit. I bet they all look as perfect and put together as Baz does. He can’t have got his poshness from nowhere. Maybe they’re all vampires. Maybe they all sit around drinking blood together. I shudder.

Agatha ends her phone call. I can feel her looking at me, but I don’t look back at her. I should be asking her out. We’re alone. It’s the perfect opportunity. But I don’t know how. I’m too scared. Baz would have a field day, seeing me being so pathetic.

“Simon,” Agatha says slowly. Then she walks over to me and slowly lies down on the bed. I swallow. We are so close. So close and she smells so wonderful, like the cookies we just baked. I tilt my head to look at her. She’s already staring at me. Then, slowly, she leans in and presses her lips to mine.

I’ve never kissed anyone before. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. But Agatha seems to. She’s moving her chin and her lips and it feels… it feels _okay._ Not good or magical or anything, like I thought it would. She moves up onto her elbows and hovers above me and deepens the kiss. I can’t tell if I like it or not. I’m supposed to like it. This is Agatha. So I rest my hands on her hips and kiss her back. It feels… nice. Pleasant.

“Simon! Agatha!”

Agatha leaps off me at the sound of Doctor Wellbelove’s voice echoing from downstairs. I feel myself going red and I swallow. Agatha runs a hand through her hair then nods her head towards the door. “Come on. We best see what he wants.”

I follow Agatha downstairs, hoping that Doctor Wellbelove won’t be able to see that I’ve just kissed his daughter. (I liked it. But I thought it would feel like _more._ Be _more.)_ When we get downstairs, I stop, stunned.

“Sir?” I ask.

The Mage is stood in Agatha’s living room.

“Simon,” he says. “I need you to come with me.”

“What’s wrong, Sir?”

“Not now, Simon. Come along. I’m sure the Wellbelove’s will return your luggage to Watford after the holidays.”

“You mean I won’t be coming back here? But Christmas is in two days!”

“Simon,” he growls out.

I sigh. “Coming, Sir.” I turn to Agatha. “See you at school, Aggie. Thank you, Doctor Wellbelove, for having me.”

He smiles. “Anytime, Simon.”

Agatha looks a bit put out. I am too. I was hoping to have Christmas dinner. Agatha’s family make the best Christmas dinner. Turkey and roast potatoes and stuffing and Yorkshire puddings and gravy. The entire table gets covered in food and there are Christmas crackers and hats and we all wear Christmas jumpers. I was really looking forward to the Boxing Day turkey sandwiches as well.

I turn and follow the Mage out of the house. He doesn’t say anything at first. We just get into a car and I lean my head against the window as he drives. I wonder what he wants me to do this time. Hopefully something exciting, since it means missing Christmas. I sigh. When the Mage asks me to fight, I fight. When he asks me to leave behind Agatha and a normal Christmas dinner, I do. When, one day, he asks me to kill Baz, I will. Baz is right. I really am a good little errand boy. But the Mage is basically my father. At least, he’s the closest thing to a father that I’ll ever have. And he cares for me on some level. I don’t want to let him down. Besides, he’s the _Mage._

“I hear that nothing has happened with the Humdrum this term,” the Mage says as we speed along the motor way.

I glance over at him. “No, Sir. Nothing unusual has happened yet.”

“Good. And you’ve been learning about vampires at school, yes?”

I frown. “Yes.” Does he know about Baz?

“So. You know that they are flammable?” he asks me.

“Yes, Sir,” I say again.

“I’m taking you to a vampire nest. There are at least 5 of them. I need you to kill them.”

I feel sick. Kill vampires? Like Baz? (If Baz even is a vampire.) Or will they look less human and more monster? They’re flammable, but I can’t always manage spells. My magic always goes wrong. It’s too much, always, and that causes problems. I’m scared to cast **_Burn, Baby, Burn!_** Or **_Hell hath no fury_** or **_Tyger, Tyger, Burning Bright_** or any of the other fire spells Baz uses. (Baz loves fire. Everything is about fire. _Light a match inside your heart and blow on the tinder._ That’s what he told me. But it doesn’t work that way, not for me. No matter how much I try.) Last time I used a fire spell I nearly burnt an entire classroom to the ground. 

“What have they done?” I ask the Mage.

“Done?” he laughs. “They’re vampires, Simon. They’re monsters. They have to be put down. Now,” he continues, pulling off the road and into a tiny forest path way, “try and kill them without going off. Use your magic, Simon. Use your words.”

Then he stops the car. Ahead of us is a cave.

“The vampires are in there. I’ll wait out here for you.”

I stare at him. “You aren’t coming in to help?” I ask, worried.

“No. If you are going to defeat the Insidious Humdrum, you need to be able to defeat lesser threats as well. Go on. You’ll be fine.”

I swallow, then get out of the car. I reach for my wand and hold it tightly. If I was a proper mage, I’d probably cast **_Light of day_** or **_Let there be light._** But I can’t. I’d probably end up banishing night time for ever or something. Penny would usually do those spells for me, but she isn’t here. The cave looms before me, dark and cold. I step inside of it, my heart pounding. But I’m determined. I can do this. I can. The cave is dark and the further inside I go, the harder it is for me to see. Then, I feel movement to my left and I aim my wand. Something bumps into me and I fall to the floor. Hands pin me down and a face appears above me, so close to mine I can feel the vampires breath on my face. I stare up at the man in horror. I can’t see much in the dark, but he has pale fangs that are popped out and a dangerous snarl on his face.

“Little mageling. What are you doing here all alone?” he hisses.

Four more vampires step into my line of sight and they are all smirking and snarling with their fangs on display. They look human enough. If I saw them anywhere else, I would think they were human.

“What are _you_ doing living in a cave?” I spit. Because I’ve never been good at comebacks. That’s Baz’s area.

They all laugh. “Live here? Why would we live here? We were just meeting here, mage boy.”

I swallow. The vampire leers closer. “Mm. Blood. So good. So sweet.” He caresses my neck and I fight to stay calm. My fingers grip around my wand. 

“Who wants a sip first?” the vampire holding me down asks.

The only female vampire steps forward. “It’s my turn, lads.”

“Yes, yes it is.” The vampire on top of me moves off me but keeps holding me down as the female moves in and crouches over me. My magic is burning, but the vampires don’t seem to notice. Maybe they can’t smell magic. (Baz can. But he’s a mage. All mage’s can smell magic, even me.) My magic jumps and flickers. The female vampire leans her head in. If I wasn’t so worried about being turned into a vampire, or killed, I’d think those fangs were wicket. (Baz would look wicket with fangs.) Just as I squeeze my eyes shut and feel those fangs graze my neck, I open my mouth and yell, “ ** _Burn, Baby, Burn!”_**

The entire cave lights up and the two vampires on top of me scream as they erupt into flames. My spells are always a bit of a disaster, though, and this is no different. The entire cave is burning, which shouldn’t be possible because it’s rock. The vampires burn to crisp instantly. They really are _flammable._ I start to back out of the cave quickly, but when I do, I find that the trees around the cave are on fire as well. The Mage is outside the car, casting spells to try and put the flames out and he’s managing, slowly, to extinguish all the flames. I don’t try and help him. I’m too worried that I’ll make it worse. Finally, the Mage puts out the last of the flames and we look around the blackened forest. I’m covered in falling ash and I cough as the smoke hits my lungs. Then the Mage sighs and turns to me.

“What. Happened.”

I swallow. “You know I can’t do spells, Sir. They always go wrong.”

“Which is why you need to practise!”

He sighs again and rubs his hand over his face. Then he casts **_Clean as a Whistle!_** on me. I hop into the passengers seat and the Mage gets in and starts the car.

“You’re the Chosen One, Simon. You need to master your magic if you ever wish to defeat the Humdrum.”

I lean my head against the window of the car and sigh. “Yes, Sir. I know.”

**Baz**

Christmas is shit. Ever since I got home, my father has avoided me like the plague. Daphne keeps shooting me sympathetic looks but she doesn’t mention any of it. (The gay thing and the vampire thing, I mean.) Christmas morning is so fucking shit. My father gave me some new violin music, which I was happy about. But then he sat me down and told me that as the oldest and as the only Pitch left, I have a duty to the family, not just the Families. And that I can’t be a gay vampire. I’d told him that I can’t change being gay any more than I can change being a vampire. He had stared at me then said we would talk later. Then Vera had come in and told us that our Christmas dinner was ready.

The only fun side about being home is getting to see Mordelia. The kid is a monster, but I love her. She’s followed me around since I stepped foot in the house and I can’t find it in me to care. She’s cute. And bigger than when I left for school back in September. The twins are cute too, but they are barely a year old and they can’t do much yet.

I raise my violin and start to play as I stare out at the drive way. Aunt Fiona said she was coming over this evening. She better. I love my Aunt Fiona more than anyone. (Maybe a little bit less than Snow.)

Snow. He’ll be with Wellbelove. He always goes home with Wellbelove at Christmas. I hate how jealous that makes me. I can’t get the other day out of my mind. How we had stayed out under the stars. How we had held hands all night long. How Snow hadn’t seem repulsed by it. How he initiated it. Then after, he kept shooting me these small smiles. I refuse to feel hope (I do feel hope. So much fucking hope, it makes me sick) because I know he doesn’t care for me. He hates me. It’s probably a ploy to make me reveal my vampirism so that he can go and tell the fucking Mage and have me expelled. No. Snow isn’t that vindictive or cruel. Snow wouldn’t pretend something like that. Which begs the question, what the fuck is Snow doing? He’s stalking me one minute and driving me into madness with longing and desire, then he’s holding my hand and sleeping beside me under the stars and then we spend two awkward days where he smiles at me and I refrain from insulting him. It wasn’t friendliness, per say. But we weren’t fighting. It was almost like we’d called a truce… a truce where it was still okay for him to follow me to the catacombs at night.

I don’t know what to think.

Simon Snow is going to be the death of me.

I stop playing when I see Fiona’s car coming up the long drive way. I carefully put away my violin and head down to the entrance hall just as she is stepping inside.

“Basil!” she yells, and strides forward to pull me into a hug.

“Hey, Fi,” I say as I pull back and grin at her.

“How’s my favourite nephew?” she asks.

I roll my eyes. Fiona frowns. “You look too pale and too thin, Basil.”

I scoff. “I’m fine, Fiona. Let’s go and see father and Daphne. I know Mordelia was looking forward to seeing you.”

I lead Fiona away from the front door and through the house. Of course she’d be able to see that I look a bit worse for wear. She’s always noticed things like that. But I’m hardly going to tell her I’ve been stressed and depressed for the entire first term of my fifth year due to discovering I’m hopelessly in love with the Chosen One and that the Chosen One thinks I’m a vampire and is hell bent on proving it. Aleister Crowley. If Aunt Fi saw me with Snow, all it would take is one look for her to know. She knows me too well.

“So, catch me up on first term? Anything exciting happen?” she asks.

I roll my eyes again and then slowly start to tell her everything (minus the things to do with Simon Snow). I tell her about football and my classes. I tell her about the shit Dev and Niall and I have gotten up too. I tell her how Dev and Niall have started smoking, but I was too nervous to try since I’m flammable. I tell her about my violin practises. I tell her about the Mage being away. I tell her about everything, except the most important aspect of my life. Simon. Fucking. Snow.

**Fiona**

Something’s bothering him, Natasha. Something is eating away at our boy. He’s telling me about Watford, but I can see this far off glint in his eye. He’s so pale. He looks like something is swallowing him alive. You should be here, Tasha. He’s so like you in so many ways. I can see you in him. His eyes. His hair that he grows so fucking long. I’m a train wreck as a guardian to him, Tasha. I’m supposed to be able to be the cool aunt who doesn’t give a fuck about consequences because he was supposed to have you there to reign him in after I get him into shit. Oh, he has Malcom and Daphne. But I’m his little bit of you, Tasha. I’m the last connection he has to you.

There is something different about him, but I can’t figure it out. He’s talking about getting drunk with Dev and Niall. He’s talking about playing football and how he’s kicking arse at it. (He’s always kicking arse, our boy.)

I wish I knew how to get him to tell me what’s wrong. You were always so much better at this, Tasha. You would have been able to get him to confess right away. He looks pained. That’s what that look is in his eyes. Something is causing him pain. He’ll never tell me what the thing is that’s doing this too him. He’s a Pitch. Oh, he has some Grimm in him too, don’t get me wrong. But that boy is more of a Pitch than I am at times. Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch. What a name that you gave him, Tasha. You’d be horrified if you knew he goes by _Baz._

I wish you were here, Tasha. I wish you were here. For Basil, yes, but for me as well. I need my sister. I’ve always needed you.

I miss you, Tasha. We all do.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here is the next chapter. There won't be another update until the end of next week as I have uni exams so I won't be writing. I hope you all enjoy this chapter and thanks for sticking with me and this story so far!

**Chapter Five**

**Simon**

Being alone at Watford over Christmas is shit. I’ve never stayed here alone over the holidays before, always going to Agatha’s, or, for the shorter holidays, Penny’s. The Mage brought me straight here after the vampire incident. I haven’t seen him, much. Only once, when he wanted to make me practise some magic. He made me do a bunch of simple spells (and I managed to get a few of them right, thank Merlin), but then he made me try some more difficult spells. Spells that I’ve never heard of before. None of them really worked. I always did too much, like with the fire in the vampire cave and the animals in the Wavering Wood. He made me try a basic copying spell called **_Copy Cat._** But when I cast it, instead of the page before me just being duplicated once, the Mage’s entire office was suddenly filled with hundreds of copies of the stupid page. The Mage had been frustrated. But thankfully he didn’t say much. He just told me we would try again another day. He says we’ll meet once a week for the rest of the school year to work on my magic. He’s stressed, though. And he keeps muttering about the Humdrum. I wonder if he’s found something out. But surely he’d tell me? The Mage always tells me things. Like when he told me to find that fire gate portal back in third year. And when the Humdrum sent that dragon and the Mage asked me to kill it. I felt bad about that one. Baz told me later that dragons aren’t dark creatures and I regretted killing it. Then there was that time that the Mage sent me after a bunch of goblins because he thought they had information about the Humdrum. (Goblins are pretty fit. Not as fit as Baz. But still. They’re like movie stars.)

I look out of the bedroom window and down at the moat. I can see some of the merewolves floundering about. Baz always said he’d throw be to the merewolves if I annoyed him too much. He should be coming back today. Everybody should be. I’m excited to see Penny and Agatha. I wonder if Aggie will try to kiss me again? Should I let her? Of course I should. This is Agatha. She’s my destiny. But somehow, the idea of being with Agatha doesn’t feel as exciting as I once thought.

The door swings open and I turn around, tripping over my feet and nearly falling, but I manage to get my balance before I completely fall over. Baz is stood there, watching me. He’s frowning.

“Baz!” I exclaim. “Hi.”

He steps completely into the room and shuts the door behind him. Then he walks over to his bed and puts down his bag. “Snow,” he replies.

I swallow and pull on the hem of my school shirt nervously. “Good Christmas?” I ask him.

He looks at me properly then, one of his eyebrows raised and a look of bewilderment on his face. “Small talk, Snow? Really?”

I huff. “I thought we could, you know, maybe, _tryandgeton,”_ I mumble out.

Baz sighs. “Words, Snow.”

I swallow hard. “I thought we could try and get on.” I can feel my face growing hot, but I make myself hold his gaze.

“And why, pray tell, would we do that? We’ve been trying to off each other since first year, Chosen One.”

“Well, yeah. But before Christmas… that was good. Right?” I can barely get a proper sentence out I’m so nervous. But I want this. I want a truce or something. I want us to be like we were that night. It was so much better than fighting.

He looks down at his bag and grits his teeth, then he looks back at me. “I’m not going to be nice to you.”

I nod my head vigorously. “Of course.”

“I’m going to insult your useless magic and call you Chosen One and tell you what an absolute nightmare you are.”

I nod some more, my heart hammering. Then he sighs. “What the hell. We can _try_ and get on. No promises. I’m still going to kill you one day.”

“And I’m still going to kill you,” I tell him. “And follow you around so that I can prove that you are a vampire. But until then… truce?” I step closer to him and hold out my hand.

He looks down at it, then, slowly, reaches out and firmly shakes my hand. “Truce.”

I grin, my cheeks hurting from the force of it. “So… good Christmas?”

Baz snorts. "We're really doing this?"

I nod, still beaming.

Baz sits down on his bed, facing mine. I sit down on my own bed, mirroring his position. I feel almost giddy with excitement. Baz and I are actually doing this. We are going to try at this truce thing. I don't know why I am so desperate for this. We're enemies. We always have been. But something about this feels right. And I like it. I like him. I think. I liked the him from that night. He was sharp tongued and cool, but not in a cruel way like previously. I want that Baz. Always.

"My Christmas was shit," he tells me. "But it was nice to see Aunt Fiona and my kid sister, Mordelia."

I blink. "You have siblings?" I didn't know that.

He laughs - a real laugh. "Yes. Mordelia is 5 and then there is the twins, Allegra and Clementine, who are 1."

I smile as I imagine Baz with three little girls. I wonder if his sisters are anything like him. "You have a stepmom then?"

"Yes. Daphne. She's lovely."

I ask question after question. Where did he grow up? Did he go to Normal primary school or have private tutors? How long has he played the violin? I ask and I ask and _he just lets me._ He doesn't snap at me or tell me to fuck off. He just lets me ask him about his life and he answers. It's brilliant. He's brilliant. I learn that he's always wanted a dog but his father would never let him. I learn that he broke his arm from falling out of a tree when he was 7. I learn that he wants to study music after Watford but doubts his father will let him. And I learn that he's never had a girlfriend.

"Enough, Snow," he says finally. He's lying back against the pillows on his bed, his eyes drooping. He looks tired. And he's still pale and far too thin.

"It's dinner time," I tell him. "We should go eat." My stomach growls in agreement.

He opens one eye, peering at me. "I'm not hungry."

"You have to eat. You're too thin. Besides, you never seem to eat at meal times."

He opens his other eye and stares at me. "Watching me eat? Crowley, Snow, is there anything you don't watch me do?"

I blush. "Come eat, Baz."

He closes both his eyes again. "Fine. You go. I'll come down in a moment."

I frown. "But can't we go together?" I'm worried that if I leave, he'll pretend this never happened and that he'll go back to hating me. I don't want us to go back to that. I like him like this. Pliant. Almost friendly. Someone who I can get on with. Who I can see myself being friends with.

"What would the Mage say if we trotted off to dinner together, Snow? What would the Families say about me, the one they have plans for with regards to your death, eating dinner with you? Just because we've called truce doesn't mean the World of Mages has. Go to dinner, Snow."

Oh. I hadn't thought about that. I stand up to go, then turn back to Baz, hesitating.

"What, Snow?" He asks, not opening his eyes.

I swallow. "We'll still have a truce when I come back. Right?"

He opens his eyes and sits up on the bed, eyeing me. Then he smiles. A real, small smile. Not a grimace or a sneer or a smirk. I smile back at him.

"We'll still have a truce, you idiot," he says softly. He sounds almost affectionate, but that can't be right.

I giggle. "See you, Baz." I walk out of the room, a bounce in my step. I feel happy. So fucking happy.

I wonder if Penny and Agatha are back yet? My smile falters. Agatha. Last time I saw her, we snogged. I snogged Agatha. Oh, Merlin. I hadn’t really thought about it much. Does this mean we are together? I should be happy about that. I’ve wanted to be with Agatha for years. She’s my end game. And yet… when we kissed. Oh, it was nice. _Pleasant._ But I thought it would be _more._ This is Agatha. I love Aggie. Don’t I? I love Penny. Like a sister, of course. And my love for Agatha… it’s different from what I feel for Penny, yeah? Me and Agatha are destined. Aren’t we? I always thought so… but things feel different. And I don’t know why.

When I reach the dining hall, Agatha and Penny are sat together, eating. I feel my face getting hot. I grab a plate of food and then walk over to them, sliding into the seat next to Agatha.

“Simon! Agatha was just telling me about the Mage. What happened?” Penny asks instantly.

“Uh…” I look over at Agatha and she smiles prettily and nudges my shoulder with hers. I swallow and look back at Penny. “He wanted me to kill some vampires,” I tell her, then stuff an entire potato in my mouth.

“Vampires?” Penny sounds alarmed. “How did you manage?”

I finish chewing then say, “I used those fire spells Baz always uses.” (Baz loves fire. He can make flames dance in the palm of his hand. I used to think it was wicket. Now I just worry because even if he won’t tell me he’s a vampire, I’m sure he is. And he’s flammable.)

Agatha laughs. “Well done, Simon.” Then she stands up. “Walk me back to my room?”

I look at Penny who nods encouragingly and shoots me a sly look. I gulp and stand up, letting Agatha take my hand in hers. We walk out the dining hall and out into the cold night.

“So, Simon,” Agatha starts. Then she stops walking, turns to face me and kisses me. She has to stand on her tiptoes to reach and she wraps her arms around my neck. I rest my hands on her hips and kiss her back. It feels better than the first kiss, but it still isn’t what I thought it would be. Everyone goes on and on about kissing and… and _sex_ and how great it is. I just… I can’t help but feel disappointed by how this feels. But this is Agatha and she is my destiny so I kiss her and kiss her until she pulls away, giggling.

She pecks another kiss to my cheek and then steps back and takes my hand in hers again. “So, Simon,” she starts again. “Was there something you wanted to ask me?”

Is she wanting for me to ask her on a date? To be my girlfriend? I suddenly feel really warm and sick and wrong. But this is _Agatha._ This is what I want.

“I…” I start. Then I stop, swallow. “Aggie, I.”

She frowns. “Simon?”

I look down at the ground, shuffling my feet and chewing on my lip.

“Simon… I thought this was what you wanted?” Agatha sounds unsure now. Hurt, almost.

I close my eyes, take a deep breath, then look back up at her. “I… I don’t know,” I shrug helplessly. “I thought, I mean, you and me, we’re end game, yeah?”

She nods slowly.

“But I just… I _don’t know.”_ I lift up my free hand and wave it around. “I don’t know, Aggie.”

Agatha swallows and steps back, dropping my hand. “Well,” she says primly, “when you figure it out, let me know.” Then she turns and walks to her room alone. I sigh. What am I doing? This is Agatha. Except that doesn’t mean the same thing that it used to. I just don’t know why.

**Baz**

As soon as Snow leaves the room, I roll over, bury my face in my pillow and let out a muffled laugh. Simon Snow, object of my affections, actually wants to be friends with me. It’s far off from the declaration of love that I’m pining for, but it’s enough. Snow doesn’t want to fight. That is more than I ever thought he’d give me. I imagined that we’d be enemies until the day he kills me. I thought that I’d never get the chance to have one of those brilliant smiles of his aimed at me. But tonight alone I have been treated to his beaming.

I turn back onto my back and hug one of my pillows to my chest. I can feel myself smiling like a loon. (It’s sickening.) Holding his hand before Christmas was like floating in the air. Or being drunk. Or that feeling I get once I’ve just drained enough blood to feel _alive._ Having Snow look at me and say that he doesn’t want us to be enemies anymore, that is like all those things times a thousand. I am fucking _high_ and his smile. We have a truce.

“I am living a charmed life,” I whisper to the room, then I giggle like a lovestruck teenage girl. I practically am a lovestruck teenage girl, except I am, you know, a lovestruck teenage boy. This is the best day of my life. I’m in heaven. Literal. Fucking. Heaven. Simon Snow wants to be friends, sort of. Simon Snow. I bury my face in my pillow and start to laugh again.

********

The days go by and my life changes drastically. Snow and I don’t talk when other people are around. I don’t want the Mage or the Families finding out about our… friendship. Because I’m scared they’ll talk Snow out of it because they’ll show him how wrong it us. And because I know that the Mage won’t approve. At all. And Snow always does what the Mage asks. Except, now, instead of steering clear of something the Mage would clear hate (me and Snow getting on), Snow is spending every spare moment with me. I’ve never been so in love with the idiot.

Sometimes, at dinner, I see him with Wellbelove and Bunce. I think about what it would be like to be there with them. At his table. Wellbelove is always touching his arm and flirting with him. I don’t know if Snow notices. He doesn’t flirt back, which is a blessing. I thought he would. I’ve heard Snow refer to Wellbelove as his destiny and his end game hundreds of times. And now, when she’s clearly ready to date him, he doesn’t seem to notice. I can’t help feeling smug about it.

I put the book I was looking at back on the shelf in the library. I’m in a corner at the back of the library and there isn’t another human in sight. I can hear a few students whispering at the tables near the entrance of the library, but otherwise, the place is blessedly quiet.

Then I hear footsteps approaching and I smile, not turning around. Then hands cover my eyes and I smirk.

“Hello, Snow.”

Snow steps back, huffing, and I turn to face him, still smirking. He shakes his head, but he’s smiling. “How did you know it was me?”

I laugh. Softly. (We are in a library, after all.) _I recognized your footsteps,_ I think. But, “Who else is moronic enough to sneak up on a Pitch?” is what I say.

Snow grins and his cheeks go red. (I want to kiss him and see if his face goes redder.) “I’ve been looking for you,” he tells me and my heart flutters faster than it ever has.

I raise an eyebrow at him. “Really? And why is that?”

He beams wider and shrugs. Half of Snow’s conversations are shrugs. I shake my head at him and turn back to the shelf and pull off another book.

“Well, I say, sitting down and leaning against the shelf. I open the chemistry book in my lap. “I have work to do, Snow.”

He shrugs again. Then he sits down opposite me. He dumps his bag and rummages through it. Then he pulls out a textbook and opens it. He looks up at me and grins. Then he turns his eyes back to his book. I stare at him for a few moments, a soft smile on my face. (I’m always so soft when it comes to Snow now days.) It’s been like this over the three weeks since we came back to Watford. Sitting together while we work, whether it’s here or in our room. I force myself to look back at my chemistry book. I soon get lost in the work, making notes in the notebook I dig out of my own school bag. I’m vaguely aware of Snow moving opposite me, shifting as he moves his bag and changes positions, as he flips through pages and clicks his pen. Time passes quickly though. Then –

“Baz?”

“Mm?” I don’t look up from the equation I am analysing.

“ _Baz.”_

This time I do look up. Snow is smiling at me and his hair is shining as the sun streams through the window, landing on him like a spotlight. It’s then that I realize how late it is. We’ve missed dinner. It’s well into the evening. I should be going hunting soon. “Yes, Snow?”

He grins wider. “I’m hungry.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re always hungry, Snow. You should have gone to dinner.”

He shrugs. “I wanted to stay with you.”

My heart pounds and my cheeks go slightly red. I’m not able to blush (much) since I haven’t just fed. Snow is always making comments like that now days. I’d think he was flirting if he wasn’t hopelessly crushing on Wellbelove. Or, you know, if he wasn’t straight. (He can’t be flirting. Simon Snow would never flirt with me. I don’t think he’d even know how to intentionally flirt, since he’s such a bumbling idiot.)

I shove my notebook in my bag and stand up, putting the chemistry book on the shelf. “Come on, then, Snow. Let’s go to the kitchens. I’m sure we can get some sandwiches at least.”

I’ve been going to the kitchens for a long time. Cook Pritchard has always liked me, so she doesn’t care if I sneak in for a snack.

“The kitchens?” Snow asks, standing and following me.

“Yes, Snow. Are you deaf?”

He laughs. Until this term, if I had said something like that, he’d have lifted his fists and been ready to fight me. (I can’t remember the number of times we’ve punched each other over the years.) But now, whenever I make such comments, he thinks I’m funny. He laughs and giggles and I just want to pull him against me and kiss him. All. The. Time.

We reach the kitchens and Snow sits at the table while I grab a plate of left over sandwiches from the fridge. Then I sit down next to him. Snow digs in instantly. I turn my face away when I eat so that he can’t see my fangs.

“Baz.”

I don’t answer. My mouth is too full with my fangs. I have a lisp when I try to talk when they are popped. I swallow the food, but my fangs stay out, so I keep my face turned away.

“Baz, I don’t care.”

He reaches out and gently turns my head to face him. I could back away. I could knock his hands off. I could spell him. I don’t. I let him turn my face, my fangs visible, and I wait. When we are facing each other, his breath catches. He reaches out to touch one of the fangs and I flinch back.

“They’re toxic,” I tell him, lisping slightly.

Snow puts his hand on my cheek and smiles. His eyes are wide and blue. “Wicket,” he breathes. He grins wider. “You’re beautiful, Baz.”

I don’t point out that calling your male roommate beautiful while cupping his face in your hands is well gay. I just want him to keep touching me and looking at me like that. “Are you going to tell the Mage?” I ask him.

He shakes his head. “Have you ever bit anyone? Killed anyone?”

I shake my head. “Never. No. My father would kill me himself if I did.”

Snow shrugs. “Then the Mage doesn’t need to know.”

He pulls away and has another sandwich. “Eat, Baz,” he tells me, his mouth full. (It’s disgusting. I love him.)

I take a sandwich and bite into it, not having to hide my fangs. It feels good. Freeing. I could spend eternity in this moment. Simon Snow knows I’m a vampire and yet he doesn’t hate me. He called me beautiful. I want to kiss him.

**Simon**

Baz looks wicket with those fangs. I keep watching him out of the corner of my eye as he eats. I want to touch his fangs, but he won’t let me. Toxic, he’d said. He’s beautiful. He’s a vampire. He’s evil. No… no, he’s just a boy. He’s my roommate. My friend. And he’s beautiful. I think I want to kiss him. Why would I want to do that?

**Baz**

He’s looking at me out the corner of his eye. He thinks I haven’t noticed, but I have. My heart feels so full and I feel alive. _Alive._ I want to kiss him. I always want to kiss him. But now, I think, maybe, if I kissed him, he’d let me.

**Simon**

I can’t stop looking at him. Our shoulders brush and I realize I’ve shifted closer to him. I want to kiss him. He’s _Baz._ I think I’m going to kiss him. Now. Here. In the kitchens. With bread crumbs falling on the table around us and his hair hanging lose around his face. And his fangs popped out looking like the sexiest vampire in existence.

“Baz,” I say, and I lean forward, putting my hand on his shoulder.

**Baz**

I think Simon Snow is going to kiss me. He’s moving closer and closer to me and my heart is thrumming in my chest. I want this. I want him. (I’ve always wanted him.) I force my fangs to retract. If Snow really is going to kiss me, I don’t want to turn him by accident.

“Baz,” he says, placing his hand on my shoulder.

I turn to him and he leans in. His face is so close and I feel frozen. Aleister Crowley. Is this really happening? Is Simon Snow really going to kiss me?

Then, just before his lips touch mine, there is a strange sucking sensation, then Snow and I both seem to shimmer. There is a yanking in my gut and the last thing I see is Simon Snow’s wide blue eyes staring straight into mine before the world goes black.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Here is the next update. We still have quite a way to go with this fic, but for now I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Thanks for all the comments and kudos so far.

**Chapter Six**

**Simon**

One minute I was going to kiss Baz, the next I am stood in the middle of a forest with my hand on Baz’s shoulder. I stare at him with wide eyes. He’s looking back at me, just as confused. There is a strange sucking in my gut, like the feeling I always get when the Humdrum is around. Did we teleport? How did we get here? And why?

“The Humdrum summoned us,” Baz spits, his eyes narrowing as he looks around, his hand reaching for his wand.

“What?” I say stupidly.

“The sucking feeling. It’s the Humdrum. It has to have summoned you and since I was touching you, it brought me too.”

That… makes sense and it freaks me the fuck out. But I shove it onto my list of things not to think about and pull out my sword. My wand is tucked into my trousers, but I’d rather not have to use it.

“Baz,” I whisper, reaching out and taking his hand. We are standing back to back, each of us with our weapons drawn as we scan the trees around us. I can’t see anything. I can just feel the emptiness. And the sucking, aching feeling that always comes with the Humdrum.

“Snow,” Baz murmurs back and squeezes my fingers.

Then we hear laughter. We both spin towards it at the same time. My palm is sweaty against Baz’s and any other time I’d be embarrassed. But right now, I’m scared and unsure and about to face my biggest enemy and I can’t help but be glad that Baz is here with me, holding my hand. Them, out of the trees steps a boy. A boy who looks just like me, when I was 11. I blink at it. At the Humdrum.

“What in Merlin’s name?” Baz whispers beside me.

“Hello, Simon,” 11-year-old me, the Humdrum, says. Me – it – him is smiling and bouncing that red ball I used to have. He has a lollipop in his mouth and his cheeks are red. If it wasn’t _myself_ looking at this thing, I would think it really was me from the past. But of course I know it isn’t, because I would know if I was a time travelling monster. Wouldn’t I?

“Why are you doing that?” I spit. “Show us your real face, coward.”

The Humdrum laughs. It’s weird and creepy, hearing and looking at a younger version of me. No… no, it _isn’t_ me. It’s the Humdrum and he’s doing this on purpose to get me worked up. I tighten my hold on my sword and I’m squeezing Baz’s hand so hard it has to be hurting him.

The Humdrum laughs again. “Simon, Simon, this is my real face. I’m what’s left when you’re finished.”

_I’m what’s left when you’re finished._

I’m breathing heavily. I’m scared. I’m really fucking scared and I can’t help but be glad that Baz is here. I want to look at him, to see what he thinks, but I can’t tear my eyes off the Humdrum. The Humdrum is thin, just like I was. Half starved. Hungry.

“I’m so hungry,” the Humdrum whispers, moving closer. He’s not quite solid. He’s almost ghost like, see-through. Like he’s not quite whole or here. The Humdrum gets closer and I let go off Baz’s hand, lunge forward and sing my sword at him. It goes right through him. He laughs. I stumble back until I’m pressed to Baz again.

“Know any spells?” I whisper to him. Because since my sword doesn’t work, I’m well and truly fucked.

Baz doesn’t say anything, but he presses his shoulder more firmly against mine. He’s breathing heavily and I want to look at him. But I don’t.

“Don’t be like that, Simon. We’re one, you and I,” the Humdrum cackles. He’s even got my bloody accent. How is this possible?

“Why are you wearing my face?” I demand.

The Humdrum shakes its head. “Oh, Simon. There is so much you don’t know. About your mummy and daddy. About your magic. Poor orphan. Poor, pathetic Chosen One. It’s your fault, you know. All of this.”

“All of what?” Baz sneers, stepping in front of me, almost protectively. “Leave Snow alone.”

The Humdrum laughs again. He seems to enjoy laughing. But his laugh is cruel, which I’m sure mine isn’t. Surely I don’t sound that cold and heartless, like _him._

“You’ll figure it out,” the Humdrum says. “Or you won’t. But I’m hungry. I’m so hungry, Simon. I don’t want to be hungry anymore.”

And for a moment, he looks like the sad little kid I used to be. Alone in the world. Starved of everything – love, food, affection, a home. The only thing I’ve ever had a lot of is magic. It’s the only thing I never have to be starved of. I look at the Humdrum. I don’t know what to do now. I don’t know how to fight it.

**Baz**

The Humdrum looks like, sounds like and speaks like an 11-year-old Simon Snow. I have no idea what the fuck is happening but that thing can’t be Snow. It can’t be. Snow can’t be the Humdrum. A super villain. He’s the hero in this story. He always has been.

Why does the Humdrum look like him?

_I’m so hungry_ , the Humdrum had said. _I don’t want to be hungry anymore. I’m what’s left when you’re finished._

When Simon is finished doing what? Being alive?

I don’t understand what is happening. But that _thing_ isn’t laying a finger on my Simon. Not when the blubbering idiot was about to kiss me, because he was. There is no denying it. Simon Snow was going to kiss me of his own free will and I won’t let this ghost like 11-year-old Humdrum Simon Snow stop me from getting to snog the real one.

**Simon**

Baz is stood directly in front of me now, as though he’s trying to hide me from the Humdrum. I shove him out of the way.

“The Humdrum is my battle, Baz,” I tell him. “So let him be my battle.”

The Humdrum laughs and steps closer to me. “I’m so hungry. Will you help me stop being hungry, Simon?”

I shudder.

“You know what it’s like to be hungry,” it continues on. “You’ve been hungry for so long, until you got to go to Watford. That’s when all the good stuff happened. After you left me.”

I have no idea what the Humdrum is talking about but it’s getting closer and closer to me and the sucking is getting worse and worse and my magic is jumping under my skin. I feel like I’m about to go off.

“Do it, Simon,” the Humdrum whispers, dropping the ball to press his hands together, smiling. “Go off. Then maybe I won’t be so hungry anymore.”

_I’m what’s left when you’re finished._

The Humdrum snaps its fingers and suddenly there is a roaring sound above us. I stumble back to Baz and we look up together. Above us, circling the forest, is a dragon. When the Humdrum snaps its fingers again, the dragon opens its mouth and breathes a stream of fire down on us. I lunge for Baz instantly, shielding him.

“Snow!” Baz yelps as I push him to the floor. “Protect yourself!”

“You’re flammable, you idiot!” I shout at him. I try to think of a shielding spell, but I can’t. Baz is thinking ahead of me because he raises his arm and yells out a spell and suddenly we are in a small bubble. The dragon breathes down on us again and the flames swirl around our bubble but thankfully Baz’s shield holds. He’s breathing heavily beneath me from where I’m still pressing him to the floor. I quickly scramble to my feet and look around. The forest is on fire and the Humdrum is standing amongst the flames, smiling, as the dragon swoops lower and breathes more fire onto us.

Baz grunts. “I can’t hold this shield much longer, Snow,” he croaks out.

I look at him. His eyes are squeezed shut and his lips are trembling with the effort. Fire swirls around us. So much fire.

“Come on, Simon!” The Humdrum yells. “Come and play! I dare you.”

_I’m so hungry, Simon._

_I’m what’s left when you’re finished._

_That’s when all the good stuff happened. After you left me._

_I’m so hungry._

_Do it, Simon. Go off. Then maybe I won’t be so hungry anymore._

“Snow,” Baz coughs.

I swallow hard, staring at him. The shield is starting to break. Small tears appear in the bubble and bits of burning branches are falling through and landing on the ground beside us. I put my sword away and then I kneel in front of Baz and take his face in my hands.

“I’m gonna get us out of here,” I tell him. _I won’t let you burn._

He coughs again as smoke and ash swirl around us and the bubble shimmers some more.

“Soon, Simon, your little vampire friend will burn and then it’ll just be you and me left to play!” The Humdrum calls. He’s laughing darkly.

“Snow,” Baz whispers, meeting my gaze. His eyes are so full of expression. He’s staring at me with this look on his face that I’ve never seen anyone direct at me before. “Snow,” he says again. “ _Simon._ Simon, I love you.”

I swallow hard and I feel like crying. Baz _loves_ me and he says it like he’s dying. Which he is. The fire is growing around us and the shield is nearly fully dissolved and then Baz will light up like those vampires I fought over Christmas. I _can’t_ let that happen.

“Simon,” he whispers again and then the shield fully dissolves.

“Bye-bye, Baz,” the Humdrum sings.

_No._ I wrap my arms around Baz and hold him close. _I wish we were somewhere safe. I wish we were away from the fire and we were okay and alive and together._

The smell of smoke fades slightly and the crackling of the flames disappears. I can feel my magic burning underneath my skin and I think _just let Baz be okay._ I close my eyes and let my magic envelope us. Everything fades away and then I feel something soft beneath us. I keep my arms around Baz and my eyes closed. I’m too scared to open my eyes. I’m too scared to see what is happening around us. I just want to keep Baz close. And safe. Always safe. That’s the only thing that matters.

**Baz**

Simon Snow has his arms wrapped around me and I can feel his breath brushing against my cheek. My eyes are squeezed shut and I think his are too. Neither of us has moved in ages. I think we’re both too scared to pull apart and open our eyes and see what is going on around us. The fire should have got me by now. And it doesn’t feel like we are still sat on the forest floor. I can’t smell smoke other than what is clinging to mine and Snow’s clothing. I can’t hear the fire or smell the trees or hear the Humdrum using Snow’s voice. I can’t feel the breeze or the heat or the ash falling down on us.

I told Simon Snow I loved him. I can’t quite believe it. I knew the fire was going to catch me and I’d go up in flames. I couldn’t die without him knowing the truth. I just couldn’t. So I told him. He looked like he was going to cry when I said it. I don’t know if that’s a good or a bad thing. But he’s got his arms around me, so I think it must be all right.

Finally, I pull my head back slightly and open my eyes. I let out a disbelieving laugh. “Snow. Snow, _look.”_

He opens his eyes and looks around us. We are in our room back at Watford and we are sat on Snow’s bed. He looks back at me in shock. We still have our arms around each other and our faces are so close our breath is mingling.

“Baz,” he says breathlessly. “Baz, are you okay?”

I swallow. “I’m fine, Snow. You teleported us home, you ridiculous fuck. You nightmare. You saved us.”

He laughs. “Yeah, I… yeah.” He pauses. “You called me Simon before.”

I blush internally. (I still haven’t fed tonight.) “No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did,” he says stubbornly. “You called me Simon when you said…” he hesitates. “When you said you love me.”

I hold his gaze. He swallows, but stubbornly looks back at me.

“Do you?” he says.

“What?”

“Do you love me?”

“I said I did, didn’t I?”

He pouts. “ _Baz.”_

I lean forward and rest my forehead against his. “I do. Love you.”

He giggles. (Fucking giggles. And it’s adorable.) _“Simon,”_ he says.

I sigh out heavily. “Simon.”

He laughs again. Then he leans closer and presses his mouth against mine.

His lips are warm. So warm and so alive in a way that I never will be. He’s moving his lips lightly against mine, pressing in. His hands reach up and tug at my hair and I let out a moan that I’d find embarrassing if I wasn’t so preoccupied by Simon Snow, love of my life, kissing me. I let myself touch his face and his hair and run my hands over his shoulders and down his arms. Snow just presses in closer and kisses me like his life depends on it. I’ve never kissed anyone before, but I can’t imagine anything feeling better than this.

I love him. I love him. I love him.

And he’s letting me kiss him.

**Simon**

Kissing Baz is so much better than kissing Agatha. Where kissing Aggie felt pleasant and nice, kissing Baz is like eating sour cherry scones coated in butter. It’s the best thing I have ever experienced. I can’t get enough of him. I’m pushing closer and closer to him until he’s on his back on my bed and I’m hovering above him, kissing him. He opens his mouth (finally) and we deepen the kiss. My stomach feels hot and I feel like I could do this forever. I want to get closer to him (I don’t think I’ll ever be close enough). I move my mouth off his and start to kiss down his jaw and to his neck. Baz is letting out these little gasps and it’s _so, so good._

“Simon,” he whimpers and I decided then and there to do whatever I can to make him say my name again and again.

I love it when he calls me Simon. I think I might love him.

**Baz**

Kissing Simon Snow is better than I ever imagined it would be. (And I have imagined. I’ve wanked while imagining it hundreds of times, as ashamed as I am to admit it.) His body is pressed against mine and his lips are moving all over my face and neck and I feel like I’m about to combust. Then he’s sucking on my neck and I think I need to stop this before I lose control and bite him because he is so close and his blood is roaring and he took his cross off weeks ago when he came back from Christmas break.

“Snow,” I say and lightly push at his chest. He doesn’t budge. “ _Simon._ Stop.”

He pulls back, his face flushed beautifully. He remains hovering over me, holding himself up and he stares down at me. He’s breathing heavily, panting with his mouth open. (Mouth breather) I reach up with one hand and gently caress his cheek. Then I lean up and place a kiss on each of the moles on his face. Because I’ve always wanted to. And now I’m allowed. When I pull back, he chases after me but I hold up a hand to stop him.

“I need to go feed,” I tell him, embarrassed. “I haven’t in a couple of days.”

He sits back and I sit up too. He takes my hand in his.

“I’ll come with you,” he says.

“You will not,” I tell him.

“I’m not letting you go out there alone. Not after…” His previously bright expression shutters as he thinks about the Humdrum. I know we’ll have to talk about it. (The Humdrum looks like him, for Crowley’s sake.) But right now I just want to snog him senseless.

“Okay,” I reply. “We’ll go to the catacombs.”

He smiles again and stands up, still holding my hand. He tugs me to the door, then stops and turns back to me. He bites his lip and looks up at me. (Snow’s always been a fraction shorter than me.) He reaches out with his free hand, tugs on my tie (because we are still in our ash covered, smoky school uniforms.) and presses a short, sweet kiss to my lips that has me swooning.

“I love you, too, Baz,” he says softly. He’s got this gentle look in his eyes and this small, shy smile on his face.

I feel a shy smile of my own spreading. I reach up and gently run my fingers over his face and through his hair. Then I press my forehead against his and simply breathe him in.

I love Simon Snow and Simon Snow loves me. I couldn’t be happier.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry that this update is quite short. The next one will be longer, I promise. I hope you enjoy! Xxx

**Chapter Seven**

**Simon**

Baz is lying in my bed with me. He’s always lying in my bed with me. It’s been a week since the Humdrum summoned us. A week since I found out the Humdrum looks like me. A week since the dragon and the fire. A week since I teleported us home. A week since Baz told me he loved me. A week since I kissed him. A week since I said I love him too.

I smile. I can’t stop smiling these days. Baz makes me smile. _Baz._ We’re lying all curled up together. I have my had on Baz’s chest and he is holding me close. His hand is in my hair (he’s always playing with my hair) and his other hand is brushing up and down my arm. It’s been like this all week. We can’t stop touching each other. That’s new. I never wanted to touch Baz like this before. I wanted to punch him. (Sometimes I still want to punch him but I kiss him instead. Because I can. Because whenever I kiss Baz, he stops everything and leans into me and kisses me back and it feels so good.) But now… now I want to hold his hand. (So I do.) Now I want to kiss him. (So I do.) I lean up on my elbows and press him lips against his.

I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of kissing Baz. Kissing Baz is the best thing I have ever experienced.

We haven’t told anyone. We avoid each other during classes and come back to the room as soon as we can so that we can kiss and touch and talk. I want to tell Penny. I think she’d understand. She did make that comment about me being in love with him once. She was right. (Penny is always right.)

I pull away and smile down at him. Baz smiles back. I love his smile. I love him. He leans up and peppers kisses against all my moles. Baz is obsessed with my moles but I don’t mind because it means he’s constantly showering me with affection. I love it.

I tug Baz’s lips back to mine and we are just starting to really get into it when the door opens. I sit up hurriedly and I can feel my face going bright red. Baz sits up too. But he looks calm and cool, like always, and he simply raises an eyebrow. (I think he’d blush if he’d just fed because he’s gone the tiniest bit pink that I can only see since I’m so close to him.) I look towards the door. Penny is standing there, staring at us.

“Simon?” she asks, unsure.

I grow redder. “Baz and I… we’re… you see, Penny, I don’t want you to be upset – not that I think you’ll be upset – but Baz… he’s… I…”

“Snow and I are dating,” Baz interrupts in his usual drawl.

I flush deeper and glance at Baz. He smiles at me – a real smile – and I reach out to take his hand in mine. “Boyfriends,” I say, looking back at Penny. “Baz is my boyfriend. I love him.”

Penny stares at me for a moment longer and I’m worried she’s going to shout. But then she closes our bedroom door and walks over to Baz’s bed. She sits down and shrugs.

“Makes sense,” she says.

I blink at her. “What?”

She rolls her eyes. “I’ve told you before that you act as though you are in love with him.”

I laugh, shooting a shy glance at Baz.

“You’re not… upset?” Baz asks cautiously.

Penny shakes her head. “So long as you don’t hurt him, Basil, I have no issue with you dating my best friend. But hurt him, and I swear on Merlin’s grave, I will make you pay.”

I laugh awkwardly. I’m touched that Penny cares so much, but I don’t want her to scare Baz away. But Baz just nods.

“If I ever hurt Simon, then I’d let you,” he says.

Penny nods, pleased. “Now, tell me what’s going on. You’ve been acting weird since last week.”

Baz looks at me. He’s told me over and over that it’s my choice who we tell. The Humdrum looks like me. The Humdrum has my face. He says that that makes it my decision. I nod at him, then turn back to Penny. It doesn’t take us long to fill her in on everything. I tell her about being summoned. I tell her everything that happened once we were with the Humdrum and everything he said and everything he did. Then I tell her how I teleported us home.

Penny stares at me. “Tell me again what the Humdrum said.”

I close my eyes. “He said… that he is so hungry. That he’s always hungry. And,” I open my eyes and look from Baz to Penny. “And that he’s what’s left when I’m finished.” I bite my lip. “He wanted me to go off. He said that maybe he wouldn’t be so hungry anymore if I went off.” I look between my boyfriend and my best friend helplessly. “What does that mean?”

Penny shakes her head. “I don’t know. But… but the Humdrum drains things, right? We can always feel a sucking when it’s around. So… maybe it wanted you to go off so that it could feed on your magic?” she shakes her head. “I don’t know. Maybe we should talk to the Mage…”

“No!” I yell.

Baz looks at me. He raises an eyebrow. “You love the Mage?”

I rub a hand over my face. “Yeah, but… he’s been different lately.”

“How?” Penny asks.

“You know how he’s been meeting with me to teach me some new spells?” They both nod. “Well, the other day when I got one wrong and everything was a bit chaotic, he started saying that ‘it wasn’t supposed to be like this’ and that ‘this wasn’t what he planned’ and when I asked what he meant he said that my magic was never supposed to be uncontrollable and that he hadn’t meant for it to turn out this way.”

Baz and Penny stare at me.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Penny asks.

I shrug.

We sit silently for a few moments, before Penny stands up. “I should go. But… I think we need to break into the Mage’s office.”

“What? Why?” I ask.

“Because the Mage is hiding something,” Baz says grimly. “Something to do with you and your magic. And if he’s hiding that, then maybe he knows something about the Humdrum as well.”

**Baz**

I’m about to break into the Mage’s office with Simon Snow. Aleister Crowley.

Bunce is keeping an eye on the Mage and if he comes back, it’s her job to distract him. Snow stands next to me. He’s breathing hard and his breath touches my skin and it makes me shiver. I have to force myself not to turn around, shove him up against the wall and snog him senseless. He’d let me, too. Snow loves kissing. Which is good. Because I’ve been dreaming about kissing him for years and now that I can, I don’t think I’m ever going to be able to stop.

I unlock the door to the Mage’s office and Snow and I slip inside. I haven’t been inside here in years. The Mage makes sure that I’m never in his office. Now I can see why. He has a bookshelf across one wall and one look at it and I can tell.

“He kept my mother’s books,” I say softly, walking over to the bookshelf. I let my fingers graze along the spines of the books. “These were all hers. And he kept them.”

Snow’s hand wraps around one of mine and he squeezes. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “He shouldn’t have. They belong to your family.”

I squeeze his hand back and swallow. “You take his desk. I’ll look at everything else.”

We set to work going through everything in the Mage’s office. There has to be something about Snow or the Humdrum. The Mage’s comments on Snow’s magic were strange… they have to mean _something._ I take books off the shelf and scan through them to see if he’s marked off any spells or made notes that could help. I’m just putting a book back on the shelf and reaching for the next one when Snow gasps.

I turn to him. “Snow?”

He’s got one of the desk drawers open and he’s staring down at something inside of it. His eyes are wider than I’ve ever seen them and his lip wobbles slightly. I walk over to him and look down. Underneath all the pages Snow has taken out of the drawer is a photo. It’s old and creased and the corner is torn. There is a woman in the photo. She’s beautiful, with yellow-blonde hair and blue eyes. She’s pregnant and smiling with her hand resting against her stomach and underneath the picture it says _“Lucy and baby Simon Snow Salisbury”_

I feel my stomach drop. This is Snow’s mother. The Mage knows who Snow’s mother is. He has a picture of her.

“Snow,” I say. He still hasn’t moved his eyes from the picture. “Simon.” He looks at me and his eyes are filled with tears.

“He knew,” Snow trembles. “He knew who I was all this time – who my family was. _He knows.”_

I swallow hard. “Simon. Simon, we need to go.”

Snow reaches for the picture but I reach out and place my hand on his to stop him. Then I take out my wand and cast **_Copy Cat._** The picture instantly duplicates and I pick up the copy and hand it to Snow. He stares at it, before shoving it in his pocket and putting everything back in the drawer. As I help, a page catches my attention. The typed section is in Latin, but the Mage has made pencil notes all around it. I copy that page too and then Snow and I hurriedly leave the office. As we walk back to our room, we spot Bunce with the Mage. She sees us and winks, before returning to her conversation with him.

Once we are in the safety of our room, Snow sits down on my bed and pulls the picture out of his pocket. I watch as he gently runs his fingers over the picture of his mother. His _mother._ Crowley. I walk over and sit down next to him. Snow instantly sags against me, his head lolling on my shoulder.

“My mother,” he whispers.

I look down at the picture as I wrap my arm around his shoulders and hold him.

“Simon Snow Salisbury,” he says. “Salisbury.”

I tilt my head and pepper kisses against his temple. “It’s okay, Simon,” I murmur. “We’ll figure everything out. We’ll find out what the Mage knows and where your mother is. I promise you, love, we will fix all of this.”

He lifts his head and looks at me. “Yeah?”

I reach up and brush my fingers lightly over his cheek. He’s so beautiful. (I’ve always known it, but seeing him right now makes me realize just how beautiful he is.) “I promise, Simon. I’ve got you, love. I’ve got you.”

He wraps his arms around me and I hug him back. I can feel his tears falling onto my shoulder and drenching my shirt and he is shaking and trembling and I hold him tighter, closer.

“We’ll solve this. I’ve got you. I love you,” I tell him as we cling to each other. “You absolute nightmare. I’m here. We’ll be okay. We’ll figure this out.”

“Promise?” he whispers.

I hold him tighter and press several kisses to the top of his head. The Latin spell is still scrunched in my pocket and I can’t wait to look over it with Bunce, to figure out what the blasted Mage has done, to solve the mystery of the boy I love. To help him. To find his mother.

“I promise,” I whisper


End file.
